the  university 
<5fTllinois 

LIBRARY 

Presented  in  1916 
by 

President  Idarand  J.  Jame 
in  memory  of 
Amanda  K.  Casad 

Ou.Zb 

168- 


UARDA 


A  ROMANCE  OF  ANCIENT  EGYPT 


BY 

GEORGE  EBERS 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN  kY  CLARA  BELL 


CHICAGO: 

DONOHUE,  HENNEBERRY  &  CO., 
407-425  Dearborn  Street. 


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M32 


3  ~>  h      v  o 


PREF ACE. 


In  the  winter  of  1875  I  spent  some  weeks  in  one  of  the 
tombs  of  the  Necropolis  of  Thebes  in  order  to  study  the 
monuments  of  that  solemn  city  of  the  dead  ;  and  during 
my  long  rides  in  the  silent  desert  the  germ  was  developed 
whence  this  book  has  since  grown.  The  leisure  of  mind 
and  body  required  to  write  it  was  given  me  through  a  long 
but  not  disabling  illness. 

In  the  first  instance  I  intended  to  elucidate  this  story — 
like  my  "  Egyptian  Princess" — with  numerous  and  exten- 
sive notes  placed  at  the  end  ;  but  I  was  led  to  give  up  this 
plan  from  finding  that  it  would  lead  me  to  the  repetition 
of  much  that  I  had  written  in  the  notes  to  that  earlier 
work. 

The  numerous  notes  to  the  former  novel  had  a  threefold 
purpose.  In  the  first  place  they  served  to  explain  the 
text ;  in  the  second  they  were  a  guarantee  of  the  care  with 
which  I  had  striven  to  depict  the  archaeological  details  in 
all  their  individuality  from  the  records  of  the  monuments 
and  of  classic  authors  ;  and  thirdly  I  hoped  to  supply  the 
reader  who  desired  further  knowledge  of  the  period  with 
some  guide  to  his  studies. 

In  the  present  work  I  shall  venture  to  content  myself 
with  the  simple  statement  that  I  have  introduced  nothing 
as  proper  to  Egypt  and  to  the  period  of  Ramesesthat  can- 
not be  proved  by  some  authority  ;  the  numerous  monu- 
ments which  have  descended  to  us  from  the  time  of  the 
Jlameses,  in  fact  enable  the  inquirer  to  understand  much 


400544 


6 


PREFACE. 


of  the  aspect  and  arrangement  of  Egyptian  life,  and  to 
follow  it  step  by  step  through  the  details  of  religious, 
public  and  private  life,  even  of  particular  individuals. 

Every  part  of  this  book  is  intelligible  without  the  aid  of 
notes  ;  but,  for  the  reader  who  seeks  for  further  enlighten- 
ment, I  have  added  some  foot-notes,  and  have  not 
neglected  to  mention  such  works  as  afford  more  detailed 
information  on  the  subjects  mentioned  in  the  narrative. 

The  reader  who  wishes  to  follow  the  mind  of  the  author 
in  this  work  should  not  trouble  himself  with  the  notes  as 
he  reads,  but  merely  at  the  beginning  of  each  chapter  read 
over  the  notes  which  belong  to  the  foregoing  one.  Every 
glance  at  the  foot-notes  must  necessarily  disturb  and  injure 
the  development  of  the  tale  as  a  work  of  art.  The  story 
stands  here  as  it  flowed  from  one  fount,  and  was  supplied 
with  notes  only  after  its  completion. 

A  narrative  of  Herodotus  combined  with  the  Epos  of 
Pentaur,  of  which  so  many  copies  have  been  handed  down 
to  us,  forms  the  foundation  of  the  story.^ 

The  treason  of  the  regent  related  by  the  Father  of  His- 
tory is  referable  perhaps  to  the  reign  of  the  third  and  not 
of  the  second  Rameses.  But  it  is  by  no  means  certain 
that  the  Halicarnassian  writer  was  in  this  case  misin- 
formed, and  in  this  fiction  no  history  will  be  inculcated ; 
only  as  a  background  shall  I  offer  a  sketch  of  the  time  of 
Sesostris,  from  a  picturesque  point  of  view,  but  with  the 
nearest  possible  approach  to  truth.  It  is  true  that  to  this 
end  nothing  has  been  neglected  that  could  be  learned 
from  the  monuments  or  the  papyri ;  still  the  book  is  only 
a  romance,  a  poeu\  fiction,  in  which  I  wish  all  the  facts 
derived  from  history  and  all  the  costumes  drawn  from  the 
monuments  to  be  regarded  as  incidental,  and  the  emo- 
tions of  the  actors  in  the  story  as  what  I  attach  import- 
ance to. 

But  I  must  be  allowed  to  make  one  observation. 


preface.  y 

Prom  studying  the  conventional  mode  of  execution  of 
ancient  Egyptian  art — which  was  strictly  subject  to  the 
hieratic  laws  of  type  and  proportion — we  have  accustomed 
ourselves  to  imagine  the  inhabitants  of  the  Nile-valley  in 
the  time  of  the  Pharaohs  as  tall  and  haggard  men  with 
little  distinction  of  individual  physiognomy,  and  recently 
a  great  painter  has  sought  to  represent  them  under  this 
aspect  in  a  modern  picture. 

This  is  an  error  ;  the  Egyptians,  in  spite  of  their  aver- 
sion to  foreigners  and  their  strong  attachment  to  their 
native  soil,  were  one  of  the  most  intellectual  and  active 
peoples  of  antiquity  ;  and  he  who  would  represent  them  as 
they  lived,  and  to  that  end  copies  the  forms  which  remain 
painted  on  the  walls  of  the  temples  and  sepulchres,  is  the 
accomplice  of  those  priestly  corrupters  of  art  who  com- 
pelled the  painters  and  sculptors  of  the  Pharaonic  era  to 
abandon  truth  to  nature  in  favor  of  their  sacred  laws  of 
proportion. 

He  who  desires  to  paint  the  ancient  Egyptians  with 
truth  and  fidelity,  must  regard  it  in  some  sort  as  an  act  of 
enfranchisement;  that  is  to  say,  he  must  release  the  con- 
ventional forms  from  those  fetters  which  were  peculiar  to 
their  art  and  altogether  foreign  to  their  real  life.  Indeed, 
works  of  sculpture  remain  to  us  of  the  time  of  the  first 
pyramid,  which  represent  men  with  the  truth  of  nature, 
unfettered  by  the  sacred  canon.  We  can  recall  the  so-called 
"Village  Judge  "  of  Bulaq,  the  "Scribe/'  now  in  Paris, 
and  a  few  figures  in  bronze  in  different  museums,  as  well 
as  the  noble  and  characteristic  busts  of  all  epochs,  which 
amply  prove  how  great  the  variety  of  individual  phys- 
iognomy, and,  with  that,  of  individual  character,  was 
among  the  Egyptians.  Alma  Tadema  in  London  and 
Gustav  Richter  in  Berlin,  have,  as  painters,  treated  Egyp- 
tian subjects,  in  a  manner  which  the  poet  recognizes  and 
accepts  with  delight. 


8 


PREFACE. 


Many  earlier  witnesses  than  the  late  writer  flaviuS 
Vopiscus  might  be  referred  to  who  show  us  the  Egyptians 
as  an  industrious  and  peaceful  people,  passionately  de- 
voted, it  is  true,  to  all  that  pertains  to  the  other  world, 
but  also  enjoying  the  gifts  of  life  to  the  fullest  extent,  nay 
sometimes  to  excess. 

Real  men,  such  as  we  see  around  us  in  actual  life,  not 
silhouettes  constructed  to  the  old  priestly  scale  such  as  the 
monuments  show  us — real  living  men  dwelt  by  the  old 
Nile-stream  ;  and  the  poet  who  would  represent  them 
must  courageously  seize  on  types  out  of  the  daily  life  of 
modern  men  that  surround  him,  without  fear  of  deviating 
too  far  from  reality,  and,  placing  them  in  their  own  long- 
past  time,  color  them  only  and  clothe  them  to  correspond 
with  it. 

I  have  discussed  the  authorities  for  the  conception  of 
love  which  I  have  ascribed  to  the  ancients  in  the  preface 
to  the  second  edition  of  the  "  Egyptian  Princess/' 

With  these  lines  I  send  Uarda  into  the  world  ;  and  in 
them  I  add  my  thanks  to  those  dear  friends  in  whose 
beautiful  home,  embowered  in  green,  bird-haunted  woods 
I  have  so  often  refreshed  my  spirit  and  recovered  my 
strength,  where  I  now  write  the  last  words  of  this  book. 

Georg  Ebers. 

Rheinbollerhutte,  September  22,  1876. 


UARDA 


CHAPTER  I. 

By  the  walls  of  Thebes— the  old  city  of  a  hundred  gates 
—the  Nile  spreads  to  a  broad  river ;  the  heights,  which 
follow  the  stream  on  both  sides,  here  take  a  more  decided 
outline  ;  solitary,  almost  cone-shaped  peaks  stand  out 
sharply  from  the  level  background  of  the  many-colored 
limestone  hills,  on  which  no  palm-tree  flourishes  and  in 
which  no  humble  desert-plant  can  strike  root.  _  Rocky 
crevasses  and  gorges  cut  more  or  less  deeply  into  the 
mountain  range,  and  up  to  its  ridge  extends  the  desert, 
destructive  of  all  life,  with  sand  and  stones,  with  rocky 
cliffs  and  reef-like,  desert  hills. 

Behind  the  eastern  range  the  desert  spreads  to  the  Red 
&3a  ;  behind  the  western  it  stretches  without  limit,  into 
infinity.  In  the  Relief  of  the  Egyptians  beyond  it  lay  the 
region  of  the  dead. 

Between  these  two  ranges  of  hills,  which  serve  as  walls 
or  ramparts  to  keep  back  the  desert-sand,  flows  the  fresh 
and  bounteous  Nile,  bestowing  blessing  and  abundance  ; 
at  once  the  father  and  the  cradle  of  millions  of  beings.  On 
each  shore  spreads  the  wide  plain  of  black  and  fruitful  soil, 
and  in  the  depths  many-shaped  creatures,  in  coats  of  mail 
or  scales,  swarm  and  find  subsistence. 

The  lotus  floats  on  the  mirror  of  the  waters,  and  among 
the  papyrus  reeds  by  the  shore  water-fowl  innumerable 
build  their  nests.  Between  the  river  and  the  mountain 
range  lie  fields,  which  after  the  seed-time  are  of  a  shining 
blue-green,  and  toward  the  time  of  harvest  glow  like  gold. 
Near  the  brooks  and  water-wheels  here  and  there  stands  a 


IO  UARDA. 


shady  sycamore  ;  and  date-palms,  carefully  tended,  group 
themselves  in  groves.  The  fruitful  plain,  watered  and 
manured  every  year  by  the  inundation,  lies  at  the  foot  of 
the  sandy  desert-hills  behind  it,  and  stands  out  like  a 
garden  flower-bed  from  the  gravel  path. 

In  the  fourteenth  century  before  Christ— for  to  so  remote 
a  date  we  must  direct  the  thoughts  of  the  reader— impass- 
able limits  had  been  set  by  the  hand  of  man,  in  many 
places  in  Thebes,  to  the  inroads  of  the  water  ;  high  dykes 
of  stone  and  embankments  protected  the  streets  and 
squares,  the  temples  and  the  palaces,  from  the  overflow. 

Canals  that  could  be  tightly  closed  up  led  from  the  dykes 
to  the  land  within,  and  smaller  branch-cuttings  to  the 
gardens  of  Thebes. 

On  the  right,  the  eastern,  bank  of  the  Nile  rose  the 
buildings  of  the  far-famed  residence  of  the  Pharaohs. 
Close  by  the  river  stood  the  immense  and  gaudy  temples 
of  the  city  of  Amon  ;  behind  these  and  at  a  short  distance 
from  the  Eastern  hills— indeed  at  their  very  foot  and  partly 
even  on  the  soil  of  the  desert— were  the  palaces  of  the 
king  and  nobles,  and  the  shady  streets  in  which  the  high 
narrow  houses  of  the  citizens  stood  in  close  rows.  < 

Life  was  gay  and  busy  in  the  streets  of  the  capital  of 
the  Pharaohs. 

The  western  shore  of  the  Nile  showed  a  quite  ditterent 
scene  Here  too  there  was  no  lack  of  stately  buildings  or 
thronging  men  ;  but  while  on  the  further  side  of  the  river 
there  was  a  compact  mass  of  houses,  antfthe  citizens  went 
cheerfully  and  openly  about  their  day's  work,  on  this  side 
there  were  solitary  splendid  structures,  round  which  little 
houses  and  huts  seemed  to  cling  as  children  cling  to  the 
protection  of  a  mother.  And  these  buildings  lay  in  de- 
tached groups.  .  "  , 

Anyone  climbing  the  hill  and  looking  down  would  form 
the  notion  that  there  lay  below  him  a  number  of  neigh- 
boring  villages,  each  with  its  lordly  manor-house.  Look- 
ing from  the  plain  up  to  the  precipice  of  the  western  hills, 
hundreds  of  closed  portals  could  be  seen,  some  solitary, 
others  closely  ranged  in  rows  ;  a  great  number  of  them 
toward  the  foot  of  the  slope,  yet  more  half-way  up,  and  a 
few  at  a  considerable  height.  . 

And  even  more  dissimilar  were  the  slow-moving,  solemn 


UARDA. 


II 


groups  in  the  road-ways  on  this  side,  and  the  cheerful,  con- 
fused throng  yonder  There,  on  the  eastern  shore,  all 
were  in  eager  pursuit  of  labor  or  recreation,  stirred  by 
pleasure  or  by  grief,  active  in  deed  and  speech  ;  here,  in 
the  west,  little  was  spoken,  a  spell  seemed  to  check  the 
footstep  of  the  wanderer,  a  pale  hand  to  sadden  the  bright 
glance  of  every  eye,  and  to  banish  the  smile  from  every  lip. 

And  yet  many  a  gayly-dressed  bark  stopped  at  the 
shore,  there  was  no  lack  of  minstrel  bands,  grand  proces- 
sions passed  on  to  the  western  heights  ;  but  the  Nile  boats 
bore  the  dead,  the  songs  sung  here  were  songs  of  lamen- 
tation, and  the  processions  consisted  of  mourners  follow- 
ing the  sarcophagus. 

We  are  standing  on  the  soil  of  the  City  of  the  Dead  of 
Thebes. 

Nevertheless  even  here  nothing  is  wanting  for  return 
and  revival,  for  to  the  Egyptian  his  dead  died  not.  He 
closed  his  eyes,  he  bore  him  to  the  Necropolis,  to  the 
house  of  the  embalmer,  or  Kolchytes,  and  then  to  the 
grave  ;  but  he  knew  that  the  souls  of  the  departed  lived  on  ; 
that  the  justified  absorbed  into  Osiris  floated  over  the 
Heavens  in  the  vessel  of  the  Sun  ;  that  they  appeared  on 
earth  in  the  form  they  chose  to  take  upon  them,  and  that 
they  might  exert  influence  on  the  current  of  the  lives  of 
the  survivors.  So  he  took  care  to  give  a  worthy  interment 
to  his  dead,  above  all  to  have  the  body  embalmed  so  as  to 
endure  long  ;  and  had  fixed  times  to  bring  fresh  offerings 
for  the  dead,  of  flesh  and  fowl,  with  drink-offerings  and 
sweet-smelling  essences,  and  vegetables  and  flowers. 

Neither  at  the  obsequies  nor  at  the  offerings  might  the 
ministers  of  the  gods  be  absent,  and  the  silent  City  of  the 
Dead  was  regarded  as  a  favored  sanctuary  in  which  to  es- 
tablish schools  and  dwellings  for  the  learned. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  in  the  temples  and  on  the  site  of 
the  Necropolis,  large  communities  of  priests  dwelt  to- 
gether, and  close  to  the  extensive  embalming  houses  lived 
numerous  Kolchytes,  who  handed  down  the  secrets  of 
their  art  from  father  to  son. 

Besides  these  there  were  other  manufactories  and  shops. 
In  the  former,  sarcophagi  of  stone  and  of  wood,  linen 
bands  for  enveloping  mummies,  and  amulets  for  decorat- 
ing them,  were  made  ;  in  the  latter,  merchants  kept  spices 


12 


UARDA. 


and  essences,  flowers,  fruits,  vegetables  and  pastry  tot 
sale.  Calves,  gazelles,  goats,  geese  and  other  fowl  were 
fed  on  inclosed  meadow-plats,  and  the  mourners  betook 
themselves  thitherto  select  what  they  needed  from  among 
the  beasts  pronounced  by  the  priests  to  be  clean  for  sacri- 
fice, and  to  have  them  sealed  with  the  sacred  seal.  Many 
bought  only  a  part  of  a  victim  at  the  shambles — the  poor 
could  not  even  do  this.  They  bought  only  colored  cakes 
in  the  shape  of  beasts,  which  symbolically  took  the  place 
of  the  calves  and  geese  which  their  means  were  unable  to 
procure.  In  the  handsomest  shops  sat  servants  of  the 
priests,  who  received  forms  written  on  rolls  of  papyrus 
which  were  filled  up  in  the  writing-room  of  the  temple 
with  those  sacred  verses  which  the  departed  spirit  must 
know  and  repeat  to  ward  off  the  evil  genius  of  the 
deep,  to  open  the  gate  of  the  under-world,  and  to  be  held 
righteous  before  Osiris  and  the  forty-two  assessors  of  the 
subterranean  court  of  justice. 

What  took  place  within  the  temples  was  concealed  from 
view,  for  each  was  surrounded  by  a  high  inclosing  wall 
with  lofty,  carefully-closed  portals,  which  were  only 
opened  when  a  chorus  of  priests  came  out  to  sing  a  pious 
hymn,  in  the  morning  to  Horus  the  rising  god,  and  in 
the  evening  to  Turn  the  descending  god.* 

As  soon  as  the  evening  hymn  of  the  priests  was  heard, 
the  Necropolis  was  deserted,  for  the  mourners  and  those 
who  were  visiting  the  graves  were  required  by  this  time 
to  return  to  their  boats  and  to  quit  the  City  of  the  Dead. 
Crowds  of  men  who  had  marched  in  the  processions  of 
the  west  bank  hastened  in  disorder  to  the  shore,  driven  on 
by  the  body  of  watchmen  who  took  it  in  turns  to  do  this 
duty  and  to  protect  the  graves  against  robbers.  The  mer- 
chants closed  their  booths,  the  embalmers  and  workmen 
ended  their  day's  work  and  retired  to  their  houses,  the 
priests  returned  to  the  temples,  and  the  inns  were  filled 
with  guests,  who  had  come  hither  on  long  pilgrimages 
from  a  distance,  and  who  preferred  passing  the  night  in 

*The  course  of  the  Sun  was  compared  to  that  of  the  life  of  Man.  He 
rose  as  the  child  Horus,  grew  by  midday  to  the  hero  Ra,  who  con- 
quered the  Urseus  snake  for  his  diadem,  and  by  evening  was  an  old  Man, 
Turn.  Light  had  been  born  of  darkness,  hence  Turn  was  regarded  as 
older  than  Horus  and  the  other  gods  of  light. 


UARDA.  *3 


the  vicinity  of  the  dead  whom  they  had  come  to  visit,  to 
gotj  across  to  the  bustling  noisy  city  on  the  further  shore 
S  The  voices  of  the  singers  and  of  the  wailing  women  were 
hushed  even  the  son|  of  the  sailors  on  the  numberless 
ferry-boats  from  the  western  shore  to  Thebes  died  away, 
its  faint  echo  was  now  and  then  borne  across  on  the  even- 
ing air,  and  at  last  all  was  still. 

A  cloudless  sky  spread  over  the  silent  City  of  the  Dead, 
now  and  then  darkened  for  an  instant  by  the  swiftly  pass- 
ing shade  of  a  bat  returning  to  its  home  in  a  cave  or  clett 
ofAe  rock  after  flying  the  whole  evening-near  the  Nile  to 
catch  flies,  to  drink,  and  so  prepare  itself  for  the  next 
day's  sleep.  From  time  to  time  black  forms  with  long 
shadows  glided  over  the  still  illuminated  plam-the  jack- 
als who  It  this  hour  frequented  the  shore  to  slake  their 
thirst  and  often  fearlessly  showed  themselves  m  troops  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  pens  of  geese  and  goats. 

It  was  forbidden  to  hunt  these  robbers  as  they  were  ac- 
counted sacred  to  the  god  Anubis,*  the  tutelary  of  sepul- 
chers,  and  indeed  they  did  little  misch.ef,  for  they  found 
abundant  food  in  the  tombs. 

The  remnants  of  the  meat-offerings  from  the  altars  were 
consumed  by  them  ;  to  the  perfect  satisfaction  of  the  devo- 
tees who,  when  they  found  that  by  the  fol  owing  day  he 
meat  had  disappeared,  believed  that  it  had  been  accepted 
and  taken  away  by  the  spirits  of  the  under-world 

They  also  did  the  duty  of  trusty  watchers  for  they  were 
a  dangerous  foe  for  any  intruder  who,  under  the  shadow 
of  the  night,  might  attempt  to  violate  a  grave. 

Thus— on  that  summer  evening  of  the  year  1352  b.  c, 
when  we  invite  the  reader  to  accompany  us  to  the  Necrop- 
olis of  Thebes— after  the  priests'  hymn  had  died  away, 
all  was  still  in  the  City  of  the  Dead.  _ 

The  soldiers  on  guard  were  already  returning  from  their 
first  round  when  suddenly,  on  the  north  side  of  the  Necrop- 
olis, a  dog  barked  loudly  ;  soon  a  second  took  up  the  cry, 

*The  iackal-headed  god  Anubis  was  the  son  of  Osiris  and  Nephthys, 
and  he  acka  was  sacred  to  him.  In  the  earliest  ages  even  he  is  promi- 
nent in  the  nether  world.  He  conducts  the  mummifying  process,  pre- 
serves"the  corpse  guards  the  Necropolis,  and,  as  Hermes  Psychopompos 
(HlrmanubiS)P  opegns  the  way  for  the  souls  According  to  Plutarch 
•<  H™s  the  watch  of  the  gods,  as  the  dog  is  the  watch  of  men. 


UARDA. 


a  third,  a  fourth.    The  captain  of  the  watch  called  to  his 

men  to  halt,  and,  as  the  cry  of  the  dogs  spread  and  grew 
louder  every  minute,  commanded  them  to  march  toward 
the  north. 

The  little  troop  had  reached  the  high  dyke  which  divided 
the  west  bank  of  the  Nile  from  a  branch  canal,  and  looked 
from  thence  over  the  plain  as  far  as  the  river  and  to  the 
north  of  the  Necropolis.  Once  more  the  word  to  "halt" 
was  given,  and  as  the  guard  perceived  the  glare  of  torches 
in  the  direction  where  the  dogs  were  barking  loudest,  they 
hurried  forward  and  came  up  with  the  author  of  the  dis- 
turbance near  the  Pylon*  of  the  temple  erected  by  Seti  I, 
the  deceased  father  of  the  reigning  King  Rameses  II. 

The  moon  was  up,  and  her  pale  light  flooded  the  stately 
structure,  while  the  walls  glowed  with  the  ruddy  smoky 
light  of  the  torches  which  flared  in  the  hands  of  black 
attendants. 

A  man  of  sturdy  build,  in  sumptuous  dress,  was  knock- 
ing at  the  brass-covered  temple  door  with  the  metal  handle 
of  a  whip,  so  violently  that  the  blows  rang  far  and  loud 
through  the  night.  Near  him  stood  a  litter,  and  a  chariot, 
to  which  were  harnessed  two  fine  horses.  In  the  litter  sat 
a  young  woman,  and  in  the  carriage,  next  to  the  driver, 
was  the  tall  figure  of  a  lady.  Several  men  of  the  upper 
classes  and  many  servants  stood  round  the  litter  and  the 
chariot.  Few  words  were  exchanged ;  the  whole  atten- 
tion of  the  strangely  lighted  group  seemed  concentrated 
on  the  temple  gate.  The  darkness  concealed  the  features 
of  individuals,  but  the  mingled  light  of  the  moon  and  the 
torches  was  enough  to  reveal  to  the  gate-keeper,  who 
looked  down  on  the  party  from  a  tower  of  the  Pylon,  that 
it  was  composed  of  persons  of  the  highest  rank  ;  nay, 
perhaps  of  the  royal  family. 

He  called  aloud  to  the  one  who  knocked,  and  asked  him 
what  was  his  will. 

He  looked  up,  and  in  a  voice  so  rough  and  imperious, 
that  the  lady  in  the  litter  shrank  in  horror  as  its  tones 
suddenly  violated  the  place  of  the  dead,  he  cried  out  : 
"  How  long  are  we  to  wait  here  for  you,  you  dirty  hound  ? 
Come  down  and  open  the  door  and  then  ask  questions. 

*The  two  pyramidal  towers  joined  by  a  gateway  which  formed  the  en- 
trance to  an  Egyptian  temple  were  called  the  Pylon. 


UARDA.  15 

If  the  torch-light  is  not  bright  enough  to  show  you  who  is 
waiting,  I  will  score  our  name  on  your  shoulders  with  my 
whip  and  teach  you  how  to  receive  princely  visitors. 

While  the  porter  muttered  an  unintelligible  answer  and 
came  down  the  steps  within  to  open  the  door,  the  lady  in  the 
chariot  turned  to  her  impatient  companion  and  said,  in  a 
pleasant  but  yet  decided  voice:  "You  forget,  Paaker, 
that  you  are  back  again  in  Egypt,  and  that  here  you  have 
to  deal  not  with  the  wild  schasu,*  but  with  friendly  priests 
of  whom  we  have  to  solicit  a  favor.  We  have  always  had 
to  lament  your  roughness,  which  seems  to  me  very  ill- 
suited  to  be  the  unusual  circumstances  under  which  we 
approach  this  sanctuary/' 

Although  these  words  were  spoken  m  a  tone  rather  ol 
regret  than  of  blame,  they  wounded  the  sensibilities  of  the 
person  addressed ;  his  wide  nostrils  began  to  twitch  omi- 
nously, he  clenched  his  right  hand  over  the  handle  of  his 
whip,  and  while  he  seemed  to  be  bowing  humbly,  he  struck 
such  a  heavy  blow  on  the  bare  leg  of  a  slave  who  was  stand- 
ing near  to  him,  an  old  Ethiopian,  that  he  shuddered  as 
if  from  sudden  cold,  though— knowing  his  lord  only  too 
well— heletno  cry  of  pain  escape  him.  Meanwhile  the 
gate-keeper  had  opened  the  door,  and  with  him  a  tall 
young  priest  stepped  out  into  the  open  air  to  ask  the  will 
of  the  intruders.  . 

Paaker  would  have  seized  the  opportunity  of  speaking, 
but  the  lady  in  the  chariot  interposed  and  said  : 

"I  am  Bent-Anat,  the  daughter  of  the  King,  and  this 
lady  in  the  litter  is  Nefert,  the  wife  of  the  noble  Mena,  the 
charioteer  of  my  father.  We  were  going  in  company  with 
these  gentlemen  to  the  north-west  valley  of  the  Necropolis 
to  see  the  new  works  there.  You  know  the  narrow  pass 
in  the  rocks  which  leads  up  the  gorge.  On  the  way  home 
I  myself  held  the  reins  and  I  had  the  misfortune  to  drive 
over  a  girl  who  sat  by  the  road  with  a  basket  full  of  flowers, 
and  tohurt  her— to  hurt  her  very  badly  I  am  afraid.  The 
wife  of  Mena  with  her  own  hands  bound  up  the  child,  and 
then  we  carried  her  to  her  father's  house— he  is  a  paras- 
chitesf— Pinem  is  his  name.  I  know  not  whether  he  is 
known  to  you." 

*  A  Semitic  race  of  robbers  in  the  east  of  Egypt.  t 
t  One  who  opened  the  bodies  of  the  dead  to  prepare  them  for  being 
embalmed. 


i6 


UARDA. 


"Thou  hast  been  into  his  house,  princess?" 

"  Indeed,  I  was  obliged,  holy  father,  ''  she  replied.  "I 
know  of  course  that  IJiave  defiled  myself  by  crossing  the 
threshold  of  these  people,  but  " 

"But,"  cried  the  wife  of  Mena,  raising  herself  in  her 
litter,  "  Bent-Anat  can  in  a  day  be  purified  by  thee  or  by 
her  house-priest,  while  she  can  hardly — or  perhaps  never — 
restore  the  child  whole  and  sound  again  to  the  unhappy 
father." 

4 'Still  the  den  of  a  paraschites  is  above  everything  un- 
clean/' interrupted  the  chamberlain  Penbesa,  master  of  the 
ceremonies  to  the  princess,  the  wife  of  Mena,  "  and  I  did 
not  conceal  my  opinion  when  Bent-Anat  announced  her 
intention  of  visiting  the  accursed  hole  in  person.  I  sug- 
gested," he  continued,  turning  to  the  priest,  "  that  she 
should  let  the  girl  be  taken  home,  and  send  a  royal  present 
to  the  father." 

"  And  the  princess  ?  "  asked  the  priest. 

"  She  acted,  as  she  always  does,  on  her  own  judgment," 
replied  the  master  of  the  ceremonies. 

"And  that  always  hits  on  the  right  course,"  cried  the 
wife  of  Mena. 

"Would  to  God  it  were  so  !  "  said  the  princess  in  a  sub- 
dued voice.'  Then  she  continued,  addressing  the  priest, 
"Thou  knowest  the  will  of  the  gods  and  the  hearts 
of  men,  holy  father,  and  I  myself  know  that  I  give  alms 
willingly  and  help  the  poor  even  when  there  is  none  to 
plead  for  them  but  their  poverty.  But  after  what  has  oc- 
curred here,  and  to  these  unhappy  people,  it  is  I  who  come 
as  a  suppliant." 

"  Thou  ?  "  said  the  chamberlain. 

"I,"  answered  the  princess,  with  decision.  The  priest, 
who  up  to  this  moment  had  remained  a  silent  witness  of 
the  scene,  raised  his  right  hand  as  in  blessing  and 
spoke. 

"Thou  hast  done  well.  The  Hathors,  fashioned  thy 
heart*  and  the  Lady  of  Truth  guides   it.    Thou  hast 

*  Hathor  was  Isis  under  a  substantial  form.  She  is  the  goddess  of 
the  pure,  light  heaven,  and  bears  the  Sun-disk  between  cow-horns  on  a 
cow's  head,  or  on  a  human  head  with  cow's  ears.  She  was  named 
the  Fair,  and  all  the  pure  joys  of  life  are  in  her  gift.  Later  she  was  re- 
garded as  a  muse  who  beautifies  life  with  enjoyment,  love,  song,  and 
the  dance.    She  appears  as  a  good  fairy  by  the  cradle  of  children  and 


UARDA. 


I? 


broken  in  on  our  night-prayers  to  request  us  to  send  a 
doctor  to  the  injured  girl?" 
"Thou  hast  said." 

"I  will  ask  the  high-priest  to  send  the  best  leech  for 
outward  wounds  immediately  to  the  child.  But  where  is 
the  house  of  the  paraschites  Pinem  ?    I  do  not  know  it." 

' '  Northward  from  the  terrace  of  Hatasu,  close  to  

But  I  will  charge  one  of  my  attendants  to  conduct  the 
leech.  Besides,  I  want  to  know  early  in  the  morning 
how  the  child  is  doing.  Paaker." 

The  rough  visitor,  whom  we  already  know,  thus  called 
upon,  bowed  to  the  earth,  his  arms  hanging  by  his  sides, 
and  asked  : 

"What  dost  thou  command?  " 

"I  appoint  you  guide  to  the  physician,"  said  the  prin- 
cess. "  It  will  be  easy  to  the  king's  pioneer  *  to  find  the 
little  half-hidden  house  again — besides,  you  share  my 
guilt,  for/' she  added,  turning  to  the  priest,  "I  confess 
that  the  misfortune  happened  because  I  would  try  with 
my  horse  to  overtake  Paakers  Syrian  racer,  which  he 
declared  to  be  swifter  than  the  Egyptian  horses.  It  was 
a  mad  race." 

"And  Amon  be  praised  that  it  ended  as  it  did,"  ex- 
claimed the  master  of  the  ceremonies.  "  Paaker's  chariot 
lies  dashed  in  pieces  in  the  valley,  and  his  best  horse  is 
badly  hurt." 

"  He  will  see  to  him  when  he  has  taken  the  physician 
to  the  house  of  the  paraschites,"  said  the  princess.  "  Dost 
thou  know,  Penbesa — thou  anxious  guardian  of  a  thought- 
less girl — that  to-day  for  the  first  time  I  am  glad  that  my 
father  is  at  the  war  in  distant  Satiland  ?  "f 

"  He  would  not  have  welcomed  us  kindly  !  "  said  the 
master  of  the  ceremonies,  laughing. 

* '  But  the  leech,  the  leech  !  "  cried  Bent-Anat.  * '  Paaker, 
it  is  settled  then.  You  will  conduct  him,  and  bring  us 
to-morrow  morning  news  of  the  wounded  girl." 

decides  their  lot  in  life.  She  bears  many  names;  and  several,  generally 
seven,  Hathors  were  represented,  who  personified  the  attributes  and  in- 
fluence of  the  goddess. 

*The  title  here  rendered  pioneer  was  that  of  an  officer  whose  duties 
were  those  at  once  of  a  scout  and  of  a  Quartermaster-General.    In  un- 
known and  comparatively  savage  countries  it  was  an  onerous  post.— 
Translator*  Asia. 
2 


jg  UARDA. 

Paaker  bowed  ;  the  princess  bowed  her  head  ;  the  priest 
and  his  companions,  who  meanwhile  had  come  out  of  the 
temple  and  joined  him,  raised  their  hands  in  blessing,  and 
the  belated  procession  moved  toward  the  Nile. 

Paaker  remained  alone  with  his  two  slaves;  the  com- 
mission with  which  the  princess  had  charged  him  greatly 
displeased  him.  So  long  as  the  moonlight  enabled  him  to 
distinguish  the  litter  of  Mena's  wife,  he  gazed  after  it  ; 
then  he  endeavored  to  recollect  the  position  of  the  hut  of 
the  paraschites.  The  captain  of  the  watch  still  stood  with 
the  guard  at  the  gate  of  the  temple. 

"  Do  you  know  the  dwelling  of  Pinem  the  paraschites  i 
asked  Paaker. 

'  <  What  do  you  want  with  him  ? ' 
"  That  is  no  concern  of  yours,"  retorted  Paaker. 
"  Lout!"  exclaimed  the  captain;  <  'left  face  and  for- 
ward, my  men."  .  , 
"Halt!"  cried  Paaker,  in  a  rage.    "I  am  the  kings 
chief  pioneer."                               ,  ■ 

"Then  you  will  all  the  more  easily  find  the  way  back 
by  which  you  came.    March."  . 

The  words  were  followed  by  a  peal  of  many-voiced 
laughter  ;  the  re-echoing  insult  so  confounded  Paaker  that 
he  dropped  his  whip  on  the  ground.  The  slave,  whom  a 
short  time  since  he  had  struck  with  it,  humbly  picked  it 
up  and  then  followed  his  lord  into  the  forecourt  of  the 
temple.  Both  attributed  the  titter,  which  they  still  could 
hear  without  being  able  to  detect  its  origin,  to  wandering 
spirits.  But  the  mocking  tones  had  been  heard  too  by  the 
old  gate-keeper,  and  the  laughers  were  better  known  to 
him  than  to  the  king  s  pioneer  ;  he  strode  with  heavy  steps 
up  to  the  door  of  the  temple  through  the  black  shadow  ot 
the  Pylon,  and  striking  blindly  before  him  called  out  : 

<<  Ah,  you  good-for-nothing  brood  of  Seth.*  You  gal- 
lows-birds and  brood  of  hell— I  am  coming." 

The  giggling  ceased  ;  a  few  youthful  figures  appeared 
in  the  moonlight  ;  the  old  man  pursued  them  panting,  and, 
after  a  short  chase,  a  troop  of  youths  fled  back  through  the 
temple  gate. 

*  The  Tvphon  of  the  Greeks.  The  enemy  of  Osiris,  of  truth,  good 
and  purity  Discord  and  strife  in  nature.  Horus,  who  fights  against 
him  for  his  father  Osiris,  can  throw  him  and  stun  him,  but  never  annihi- 
late him. 


UARDA. 


19 


The  door-keeper  had  succeeded  in  catching  one  mis- 
creant, a  boy  of  thirteen,  and  held  him  so  tight  by  the  ear 
that  his  pretty  head  seemed  to  have  grown  in  a  horizontal 
direction  from  his  shoulders. 

"  I  will  take  you  before  the  school-master,  you  plague- 
of-locusts,  you  swarm  of  bats  !  "  cried  the  old  man,  out  of 
breath.  But  the  dozen  of  school-boys,  who  had  availed 
themselves  of  the  opportunity  to  break  out  of  bounds, 
gathered  coaxing  round  him,  with  words  of  repentance, 
though  every  eye  sparkled  with  delight  at  the  fun  they 
had  had,  and  of  which  no  one  could  deprive  them  ;  and 
when  the  biggest  of  them  took  the  old  man's  chin,  and 
promised  to  give  him  the  wine  which  his  mother  was  to 
send  him  next  day  for  the  week's  use,  the  porter  let  go 
his  prisoner — who  tried  to  rub  the  pain  out  of  his  burning 
ear — and  cried  out  in  harsher  tones  than  before  : 

"  You  will  pay  me,  will  you,  to  let  you  off !  Do  you 
think  I  will  let  your  tricks  pass?  You  little  know  this  old 
man.  I  will  complain  to  the  gods,  not  to  the  school- 
master ;  and  as  for  your  wine,  youngster,  I  will  offer  it  as 
a  libation,  that  heaven  may  forgive  you." 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  temple  where,  in  the  forecourt,  Paaker  was  waiting, 
and  where  the  priest  had  disappeared  to  call  the  leech,  was 
called  the  "  House  of  Seti,"  *  and  was  one  of  the  largest  in 
the  City  of  the  Dead.  Only  that  magnificent  building  of 
the  time  of  the  deposed  royal  race  of  the  reigning  king's 
grandfather — that  temple  which  had  been  founded  by 
Thotmes  III.,  and  whose  gateway  Amenophis  III.  had 
adorned  with  immense  colossal  statues  | — exceeded  it  in 
the  extent  of  its  plan  ;  in  every  other  respect  it  held  the 
pre-eminence  among  the  sanctuaries  of  the  Necropolis. 
Rameses  I.  had  founded  it  shortly  after  his  accession,  the 

*  It  is  still  standing,  and  known  as  the  temple  of  Qurnah. 
t  The  well-known  colossal  statues,  of  which  that  which  stands  to  the 
north  is  the  famous  musical  statue,  or  Pillar  of  Memnon. 


20 


UARDA. 


better  to  secure  his  possession  of  the  throne  of  Egypt ;  and 
his  yet  greater  son  Seti  carried  on  the  erection,  in  which 
the  service  of  the  dead  for  the  Manes  of  the  members  of 
the  new  royal  family  was  conducted,  and  the  high  festi- 
vals held  in  honor  of  the  gods  of  the  under-world.  Great 
sums  had  been  expended  for  its  establishment,  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  priesthood  of  its  sanctuary,  and  the 
support  of  the  institutions  connected  with  it.  These  were 
intended  to  be  equal  to  the  great  original  foundations  of 
priestly  learning  at  Heliopolis  and  Memphis ;  they  were 
regulated  on  the  same  pattern,  and  with  the  object  of  rais- 
ing the  new  royal  residence  of  upper  Egypt,  namely 
Thebes,  above  the  capitals  of  lower  Egypt  in  regard  to" 
philosophical  distinction. 

One  of  the  most  important  of  these  foundations  was  a 
very  celebrated  school  of  learning.  First  there  was  the 
high  school,  in  wjiich  priests,  physicians,  judges,  mathe- 
maticians, astronomers,  grammarians,  and  other  learned 
men,  not  only  had  the  benefit  of  instruction,  but,  subse- 
quently, when  they  had  won  admission  to  the  highest 
ranks  of  learning,  and  attained  the  dignity  of  "Scribes," 
were  maintained  at  the  cost  of  the  king,  and  enabled  to 
pursue  their  philosophical  speculations  and  researches,  in 
freedom  from  all  care,  and  in  the  society  of  fellow-workers 
of  equal  birth  and  identical  interests. 

An  extensive  library,  in  which  thousands  of  papyrus- 
rolls  were  preserved,  and  to  which  a  manufactory  of  papy- 
rus was  attached,  was  at  the  disposal  of  the  learned  ;  and 
some  of  them  were  intrusted  with  the  education  of  the 
younger  disciples,  who  had  been  prepared  in  the  element- 
ary school,  which  was  also  dependent  on  the  House— or 
university— of  Seti.  The  lower  school  was  open  to  every 
son  of  a  free  citizen,  and  was  often  frequented  by  several 
hundred  boys,  who  also  found  night-quarters  there.  The 
parents  were  of  course  required  either  to  pay  for  their 
maintenance,  or  to  send  due  supplies  of  provisions  for  the 
keep  of  their  children  at  school. 

In  a  separate  building  lived  the  temple-boarders,  a  few 
sons  of  the  noblest  families,  who  were  brought  up  by  the 
priests  at  a  great  expense  to  their  parents. 
s     Seti  I,  the  founder  of  this  establishment,  had  had  his 
~~  two  son,  and  successor,  Rameses,  educated  here. 


UaRDA. 


Jt 


The  elementary  schools  were  strictly  ruled,  and  the  rod 
played  so  large  a  part  in  them  that  a  pedagogue  could 
record  this  saying  :  "  The  scholars  ears  are  at  his  back  • 
when  he  is  flogged  then  he  hears. " 

Those  youths  who  wished  to  pass  up  from  the  lower  to 
the  high  school  had  to  undergo  an  examination.  The 
student,  when  he  had  passed  it,  could  choose  a  master 
from  among  the  learned  of  the  higher  grades,  who  under- 
took to  be  his  philosophical  guide,  and  to  whom  he  re- 
mained attached  all  his  life  through,  as  a  client  to  his- 
patron.  He  could  obtain  the  degree  of  "  Scribe''  and 
qualify  for  public  office  by  a  second  examination. 

Near  to  these  schools  of  learning  there  stood  also  a 
school  of  art,  in  which  instruction  was  given  to  students 
who  desired  to  devote  themselves  to  architecture,  sculpt- 
ure, or  painting  ;  in  these  also  the  learner  might  choose 
his  master. 

Every  teacher  in  these  institutions  belonged  to  the 
priesthood  of  the  House  of  Seti.  It  consisted  of  more  than 
eight  hundred  members,  divided  into  five  classes,  and  con- 
ducted by  three  so-called  prophets. 

The  first  prophet  was  the  high-priest  of  the  House  of 
Seti,  and  at  the  same  time  the  superior  of  all  the  thousands 
of  upper  and  under  servants  of  the  divinities  which  be- 
longed to  the  City  of  the  Dead  of  Thebes. 

The  temple  of  Seti  proper  was  a  massive  structure  of 
limestone.  A  row  of  Sphinxes  led  from  the  Nile  to  the 
surrounding  wall,  and  to  the  first  vast  pro-pylon,  which 
formed  the  entrance  to  a  broad  forecourt  inclosed  on  the 
two  sides  by  colonnades,  and  beyond  which  stood  a  second 
gateway.  When  he  had  passed  through  this  door,  which 
stood  between  two  towers,  in  shape  like  truncated  pyra- 
mids, the  stranger  came  to  a  second  court  resembling  the 
first,  closed  at  the  farther  end  by  a  noble  row  of  pillars, 
which  formed  part  of  the  central  temple  itself. 

The  innermost  and  last  was  dimly  lighted  by  a  few  lamps. 

Behind  the  temple  of  Seti  stood  large  square  structures 
of  brick  of  the  Nile  mud,  which,  however,  had  a  hand- 
some and  decorative  effect,  as  the  humble  material  of 
which  they  were  constructed  was  plastered  with  lime,  and 
that  again  was  painted  with  colored  pictures  and  hiero- 
glyphic inscriptions. 


22 


UARDA. 


The  internal  arrangement  of  all  these  houses  was  the 
same.  In  the  midst  was  an  open  court,  on  to  which  opened 
the  doors  of  the  rooms  of  the  priests  and  philosophers. 
On  each  side  of  the  court  wTas  a  shady,  covered  colonnade 
of  wood,  and  in  the  midst  a  tank  gay  with  ornamental 
plants.  In  the  upper  story  were  the  apartments  for  the 
scholars  ;  and  instruction  was  usually  given  in  the  paved 
courtyard  strewn  with  mats. 

The  most  imposing  was  the  house  of  the  chief  prophets  ; 
it  was  distinguished  by  its  waving  standards,  and  stood 
about  a  hundred  paces  behind  the  temple  of  Seti,  between 
a  well-kept  grove  and  a  clear  lake,  the  sacred  tank  of  the 
temple  ;  but  they  only  occupied  it  while  fulfilling  their 
office,  while  the  splendid  houses  which  they  lived  in  with 
their  wives  and  children  lay  on  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
in  Thebes  proper. 

The  untimely  visit  to  the  temple  could  not  remain  unob- 
served by  the  colony  of  sages.  Just  as  ants,  when  a  hand 
breaks  in  on  their  dwelling,  hurry  restlessly  hither  and 
thither,  so  an  unwonted  stir  had  agitated,  not  the  school- 
boys only,  but  the  teachers  and  the  priests.  They  collected 
in  groups  near  the  outer  walls,  asking  questions  and  hazard- 
ing guesses.  A  messenger  from  the  king  had  arrived — the 
Princess  Bent-Anat  had  been  attacked  by  the  Kolchytes — 
and  a  wag  among  the  school-boys,  who  had  got  out,  de- 
clared that  Paaker,  the  king  s  pioneer,  had  been  brought 
info  the  temple  by  force  to  be  made  to  learn  to  write  better. 
As  the  subject  of  the  joke  had  formerly  been  a  pupil  of  the 
House  of  Seti,  and  many  delectable  stories  of  his  errors  in 
penmanship  still  survived  in  the  memory  of  the  later  gen- 
eration of  scholars,  this  information  was  received  with  joy- 
ful applause ;  and  it  seemed  to  have  a  glimmer  of  proba- 
bility, in  spite  of  the  apparent  contradiction  that  Paaker 
filled  one  of  the  highest  offices  near  the  king,  when  a 
grave  young  priest  declared  that  he  had  seen  the  pioneer 
in  the  forecourt  of  the  temple. 

The  lively  discussion,  the  laughter  and  shouting  of  the 
boys  at  such  an  unwonted  hour,  was  not  unobserved  by 
the  chief  priest. 

This  remarkable  prelate,  Ameni,  the  son  of  Nebket,  a 
scion  of  an  old  and  noble  family,  was  far  more  than  merely 
the  independent  head  of  the  temple-brotherhood,  among 


UARDA. 


23 


whom  he  was  prominent  for  his  power  and  wisdom  ;  for 
all  the  priesthood  in  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land 
acknowledged  his  supremacy,  asked  his  advice  in  difficult 
cases,  and  never  resisted  the  decisions  in  spiritual  matters 
which  emanated  from  the  House  of  Seti — that  is  to  say, 
from  Ameni.  He  was  the  embodiment  of  the  priestly 
idea ;  and  if  at  times  he  made  heavy — nay  extraordinary — 
demands  on  individual  fraternities,  they  were  submitted 
to,  for  it  was  known  by  experience  that  the  indirect  roads 
which  he  ordered  them  to  follow  all  converged  on  one  goal, 
namely,  the  exaltation  of  the  power  and  dignity  of  the 
hierarchy.  The  king  appreciated  this  remarkable  man, 
and  had  long  endeavored  to  attach  him  to  the  court,  as 
keeper  of  the  royal  seal  ;  but  Ameni  was  not  to  be  induced 
to  give  up  his  apparently  modest  position  ;  for  he  con- 
temned all  outward  show  and  ostentatious  titles  ;  he  ven- 
tured sometimes  to  oppose  a  decided  resistance  to  the 
measures  of  the  Pharaoh,*  and  was  not  minded  to  give  up 
his  unlimited  control  of  the  priests  for  the  sake  of  a  lim- 
ited dominion  over  what  seemed  to  him  petty  external 
concerns,  in  the  service  of  a  king  who  was  only  too  inde- 
pendent and  hard  to  influence. 

He  regularly  arranged  his  mode  and  habits  of  life  in  an 
exceptional  way. 

Eight  days  out  of  ten  he  remained  in  the  temple  in- 
trusted to  his  charge  ;  two  he  devoted  to  his  family,  who 
lived  on  the^other  bank  of  the  Nile  ;  but  he  let  no  one,  not 
even  those  nearest  to  him,  know  what  portion  of  the  ten 
days  he  gave  up  to  recreation.  He  required  only  four 
hours  of  sleep.  This  he  usually  took  in  a  dark  room 
which  no  sound  could  reach,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  day  ; 
never  at  night,  when  the  coolness  and  quiet  seemed  to  add 
to  his  powers  of  work,  and  when  from  time  to  time  he 
could  give  himself  up  to  the  study  of  the  starry  heavens. 

All  the  ceremonials  that  his  position  required  of  him, 
the  cleansing,  purification,  shaving,  and  fasting,  he  ful- 
filled with  painful  exactitude,  and  the  outer  bespoke  the 
inner  man. 

*  Pharaoh  is  the  Hebrew  form  of  the  Egyptian  Peraa — or  Phrah. 
"  The  great  house,"  "sublime  house,"  or  "high  gate,"  is  the  literal 
meaning. — A  uthor. 

A  remnant  of  the  idea  seems  to  survive  in  the  title,  "  The  Sublime 
Porte.' Translator. 


UARDA. 


Ameni  was  entering  on  his  fiftieth  year  ;  his  figure  was 
tall,  and  had  escaped  altogether  the  stoutness  to  which  at 
that  age  the  Oriental  is  liable.  The  shape  of  his  smoothly- 
shaven  head  was  symmetrical  and  of  a  long  oval  ;  his  fore- 
head was  neither  broad  nor  high,  but  his  profile  was  unu- 
sually delicate,  and  his  face  striking  ;  his  lips  were  thin  and 
dry,  and  his  large  and  piercing  eyes,  though  neither  fiery 
nor  brilliant,  and  usually  cast  down  to  the  ground  under 
his  thick  eyebrows,  were  raised  with  a  full,  clear,  dispas- 
sionate gaze  when  it  was  necessary  to  see  and  to  examine. 

The  poet  of  the  House  of  Seti,  the  young  Pentaur,  who 
knew  these  eyes,  had  celebrated  them  in  song,  and 
had  likened  them  to  a  well-disciplined  army  which  the 
general  allows  to  rest  before  and  after  the  battle,  so 
that  they  may  march  in  full  strength  to  victory  in  the 
fight. 

The  refined  deliberateness  of  his  nature  had  in  it  much 
that  was  royal  as  well  as  priestly  ;  it  was  partly  intrinsic 
and  born  with  him,  partly  the  result  of  his  own  mental 
self-control.  He  had  many  enemies,  but  calumny  seldom 
dared  to  attack  the  high  character  of  Ameni. 

The  high-priest  looked  up  in  astonishment  as  the 
disturbance  in  the  court  of  his  temple  broke  in  on  his 
studies. 

The  room  in  which  he  was  sitting  was  spacious  and 
cool ;  the  lower  part  of  the  walls  was  lined  with  earthen- 
ware tiles,  the  upper  half  plastered  and  painted.  But 
little  was  visible  of  the  masterpieces  of  the  artists  of  the 
establishment,  for  almost  everywhere  they  were  concealed 
by  wooden  closets  and  shelves,  in  which  were  papyrus-rolls 
and  wax  tablets.  A  large  table,  a  couch  covered  with  a 
panther  s  skin,  a  footstool  in  front  of  it,  and  on  it  a  cres- 
cent-shaped support  for  the  head,  made  of  ivory,*  several 
seats,  a  stand  with  beakers  and  jugs,  and  another  with 
flasks  of  all  sizes,  saucers,  and  boxes,  composed  the  furni- 
ture of  the  room,  which  was  lighted  by  three  lamps, 
shaped  like  birds  and  filled  with  kiki  oil.f 

Ameni  wore  a  fine  pleated  robe  of  snow-white  linen, 

*  A  support  of  crescent  form  on  which  the  Egyptians  rested  their 
heads.  Many  specimens  were  found  in  the  catacombs,  and  similai 
objects  are  still  used  in  Nubia. 

t  Castor  oil,  which  was  used  in  the  lamps. 


UARDA. 


Which  reached  to  his  ankles  ;  round  his  hips  was  a  scar:! 
adorned  with  fringes,  which  in  front  formed  an  apron, 
with  broad,  stiffened  ends  which  fell  to  his  knees  ;  a  wide 
belt  of  white  and  silver  brocade  confined  the  drapery  of 
his  robe.  Round  his  throat  and  far  down  on  his  bare 
breast  hung  a  necklace  more  than  a  span  deep,  composed 
of  pearls  and  agates,  and  his  upper  arm  was  covered  with 
broad  gold  bracelets.  He  rose  from  the  ebony  seat  with 
lion's  feet,  on  which  he  sat,  and  beckoned  to  a  servant 
who  squatted  by  one  of  the  walls  of  the  sitting-room.  He 
rose,  and  without  any  word  of  command  from  his  master, 
silently  and  carefully  placed  on  the  high-priest  s  bare  head 
a  long  and  thick  curled  wig,  and  threw  a  leopard  skin, 
with  its  head  and  claws  overlaid  with  gold-leaf,  over  his 
shoulders.  A  second  servant  held  a  metal  mirror  before 
Ameni,  in  which  he  cast  a  look  as  he  settled  the  panther- 
skin  and  head-gear, 

A  third  servant  was  handing  him  the  crosier,  the  in- 
signia of  his  dignity  as  a  prelate,  when  a  priest  entered 
and  announced  the  scribe  Pentaur. 

Ameni  nodded,  and  the  young  priest,  who  had  talked 
with  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  at  the  temple  gate  came  into 
the  room. 

Pentaur  knelt  and  kissed  the  hand  of  the  prelate,  who 
gave  him  his  blessing,  and  in  a  clear,  sweet  voice,  and 
rather  formal  and  unfamiliar  language — as  if  he  were  read- 
ing rather  than  speaking,  said  : 

"Rise,  my  son  ;  your  visit  will  save  me  a  walk  at  this 
untimely  hour,  since  you  can  inform  me  of  what  disturbs 
the  disciples  in  our  temple.  Speak." 

"Little  of  consequence  has  occurred,  holy  father,"  re- 
plied Pentaur.  "  Nor  would  I  have  disturbed  thee  at  this- 
hour,  but  that  a  quite  unnecessary  tumult  has  been  raised 
by  the  youths  ;  and  that  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  appeared 
in  person  to  request  the  aid  of  a  physician.  The  unusual 
hour  and  the  retinue  that  followed  her  " 

"Is  the  daughter  of  the  Pharaoh  sick?"  asked  the 
prelate. 

"No,  father.  She  is  well — even  to  wantonness,  since 
- — wishing  to  prove  the  swiftness  of  her  horse — she  ran 
over  the  daughter  of  the  paraschites  Pinem.  Noble-hearted 
as  she  is,  she  herself  carried  the  sorely-wounded  girl  to  her 
house." 


26 


UARDA. 


"She  entered  the  dwelling  of  the  unclean  f  w 
"Thou  hast  said." 

"  And  she  now  asks  to  be  purified  ?  " 

"I  thought  I  might  venture  to  absolve  her,  father,  for 
the  purest  humanity  led  her  to  the  act,  which  was  no  doubt 
a  breach  of  discipline,  but  " 

"But?"  asked  the  high-priest  in  a  grave  voice,  and  he 
raised  his  eyes  which  he  had  hitherto  kept  fixed  on  the 
ground. 

"But,"  said  the  young  priest,  and  now  his  eyes  fell, 
"  which  can  surely  be  no  crime.  When  Ra  in  his  golden 
bark  sails  across  the  heavens,  his  light  falls  as  freely  and 
as  bountifully  on  the  hut  of  the  despised  poor  as  on  the 
palace  of  the  Pharaohs  ;  and  shall  the  tender  human  heart 
withhold  its  pure  light — which  is  benevolence — from  the 
wretched,  only  because  they  are  base  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  poet  Pentaur  that  speaks,"  said  the  prelate, 
"and  not  the  priest  to  whom  the  privilege  was  given  to 
be  initiated  into  the  highest  grade  of  the  sages,  and  whom 
I  call  my  brother  and  my  equal.  I  have  no  advantage 
over  you,  young  man,  but  perishable  learning,  which  the 
past  has  won  for  you  as  much  as  for  me — nothing  but  cer- 
tain perceptions  and  experiences  that  offer  nothing  new  to 
the  world,  but  teach  us,  indeed,  that  it  is  our  part  to  maintain 
all  that  is  ancient  in  living  efficacy  and  practice.  That 
which  you  promised  a  few  weeks  since,  I  many  years  ago 
vowed  to  the  gods  ;  to  guard  knowledge  as  the  exclusive 
possession  of  the  initiated.  Like  fire,  it  serves  those  who 
know  its  uses  to  the  noblest  ends,  but  in  the  hands  of  chil- 
dren— and  the  people,  the  mob,  can  never  ripen  into  man- 
hood—it is  a  destroying  brand,  raging  and  inextinguish- 
able, devouring'' "all  around  it,  and  destroying  all  that  has 
been  built  and  beautified  by  the  past.  And  how  can  we 
remain  '  the  Sages '  and  continue  to  develop  and  absorb  all 
learning  within  the  shelter  of  our  temples,  not  only  with- 
out endangering  the  weak,  but  for  their  benefit?  You 
know  and  have  sworn  to  act  after  that  knowledge.  To 
bind  the  crowd  to  the  faith  and  the  institutions  of  the 
fathers  is  your  duty— is  the  duty  of  every  priest.  Times 
have  changed,  my  son  ;  under  the  old  kings  the  fire,  of 
which  I  spoke  figuratively  to  you— the  poet — was  inclosed 
in  brazen  walls  which  the  people  passed  stupidly  by.  Now 


UARDA. 


27 


I  see  breaches  in  the  old  fortifications  ;  the  eyes  of  the  un- 
initiated have  been  sharpened,  and  one  tells  the  other  what 
he  fancies  he  has  spied,  though  half-blinded,  through  the 
glowing  rifts. " 

A  slight  emotion  had  given  energy  to  the  tones  of  the 
speaker,  and  while  he  held  the  poet  spell-bound  with  his 
piercing  glance  he  continued  : 

"  We  curse  and  expel  any  one  of  the  initiated  who  en- 
larges these  breaches  ;  we  punish  even  the  friend  who  idly 
neglects  to  repair  and  close  them  with  beaten  brass  !  " 

"  My  father  !  "  cried  Pentaur,  raising  his  head  in  aston- 
ishment while  the  blood  mounted  to  his  cheeks. 

The  high-priest  went  up  to  him  and  laid  both  hands  on 
his  shoulders. 

They  were  of  equal  height  and  of  equally  symmetrical 
build ;  even  the  outline  of  their  features  was  similar. 
Nevertheless  no  one  would  have  taken  them  to  be  even 
distantly  related;  their  countenances  were  so  infinitely 
unlike  in  expression. 

On  the  face  of  one  were  stamped  a  strong  will  and  the 
power  of  firmly  guiding  his  life  and  commanding  himself  ; 
on  the  other,  an  amiable  desire  to  overlook  the  faults  and 
defects  of  the  world,  and  to  contemplate  life  as  it  painted 
itself  in  the  transfiguring  magic-mirror  of  his  poet  s  soul. 
Frankness  and  enjoyment  spoke  in  his  sparkling  eye,  but 
the  subtle  smile  on  his  lips  when  he  was  engaged  in  a  dis- 
cussion, or  when  his  soul  was  stirred,  betrayed  that  Pen- 
taur, far  from  childlike  carelessness,  had  fought  many  a 
severe  mental  battle,  and  had  tasted  the  dark  waters  of 
doubt. 

At  this  moment  mingled  feelings  were  struggling  in  his 
soul.  He  felt  as  if  he  must  withstand  the  speaker  ;  and  yet 
the  powerful  presence  of  the  other  exercised  so  strong  an 
influence  over  his  mind,  long  trained  to  submission,  that 
he  was  silent,  and  a  pious  thrill  passed  through  him  when 
Ameni's  hands  were  laid  on  his  shoulders. 

"  I  blame  you,"  said  the  high-priest,  while  he  firmly 
held  the  young  man,  "  nay,  to  my  sorrow  I  must  chastise 
you  ;  and  yet,"  he  said,  stepping  back  and  taking  his  right 
hand,  "  I  rejoice  in  the  necessity  ;  for  I  love  you  and  honor 
you,  as  one  whom  the  Unnameable  has  blessed  with  high 
gifts  and  destined  to  great  things.    Man  leaves  a  weed  to 


28 


UARDA. 


grow  unheeded  or  roots  it  up  ;  but  you  are  a  noble  tree,  and 
I  am  like  the  gardener  who  has  forgotten  to  provide  it  with 
a  prop,  and  who  is  now  thankful  to  have  detected  a  bend 
that  reminds  him  of  his  neglect.    You  look  at  me  inquir- 
ingly, and  I  can  see  in  your  eyes  that  I  seem  to  you  a 
severe  judge.    Of  what  are  you  accused  ?— You  have  suf- 
fered an  institution  of  the  past  to  be  set  aside.    It  does  not 
matter— so  the  short-sighted  and  heedless  think;  but  I 
say  to  you  :    You  have  doubly  transgressed,  because  the 
wrong-doer  was  the  kings  daughter,  whom  all  look  up  to, 
great  and  small,  and  whose  actions  may  serve  as  an  ex- 
ample to  the  people.    On  whom  then  must  a  breach  of  the 
ancient  institutions  lie  with  the  darkest  stain  if  not  on  the 
highest  in  rank  ?  In  a  few  days  it  will  be  said  the  paraschites 
are  men  even  as  we  are,  and  the  old  law  to  avoid  them  as 
unclean  is  folly.    And  will  the  reflections  of  the  people, 
think  you,  end  there,  when  it  is  so  easy  for  them  to  say  that 
he  who  errs  in  one  point  may  as  well  fail  in  all  ?  In  questions 
of  faith,  my  son,  nothing  is  insignificant.    If  we  open  one 
tower  to  the  enemy  he  is  master  of  the  whole  fortress.  In 
these  unsettled  times  our  sacred  lore  is  like  a  chariot  on  the 
declivity  of  a  precipice,  and  under  the  wheels  thereof  a  stone. 
A  child  takes  away  the  stone,  and  the  chariot  rolls  down 
into  the  abyss  and  is  dashed  in  pieces.    Imagine  the 
princess  to  be  that  child,  and  the  stone  a  loaf  that  she 
would  fain  give  to  feed  a  beggar.    Would  you  then  give 
it  to  her  if  your  father  and  your  mother  and  all  that  is 
dear  and  precious  to  you  were  in  the  chariot?  Answer 
not !  the  princess  will  visit  the  paraschites  again  to  morrow. 
You  must  await  her  in  the  man's  hut,  and  there  inform 
her  that  she  has  transgressed  and  must  crave  to  be  puri- 
fied by  us.    For  this  time  you  are  excused  from  any  further 
punishment    Heaven  has  bestowed  on  you  a  gifted  soul. 
Strive  for  that  which  is  wanting  to  you— the  strength  to 
subdue,  to  crush  for  One— and  you  know  that  One— all 
things  else— even  the  misguiding  voice  of  your  heart,  the 
treacherous  voice  of  your  judgment.    But  stay!  send 
leeches  to  the  house  of  the  paraschites,  and  desire  them 
to  treat  the  injured  girl  as  though  she  were  the  queen  her- 
self.   Who  knows  where  the  man  dwells  ?  " 

"The  princess,"  replied  Pentaur,  "has  left  Paaker,  the 
king  s  pioneer,  behind  in  the  temple  to  conduct  the  leeches, 
to  the  house  of  Pinern. " 


UARDA. 


29 


The  grave  high-priest  smilecL  and  said,  Paaker  !  to 
attend  the  daughter  of  a  paraschites. " 

Pentaur  half  beseechingly  and  half  in  fun  raised  his 
eyes  which  he  had  kept  cast  down.  "  And  Pentaur/'  he 
murmured,  4 'the  gardeners  son  !  who  is  to  refuse  absolu- 
tion to  the  king's  daughter  !  " 

"  Pentaur,  the  minister  of  the  gods — Pentaur,  the  priest 
—has  not  to  do  with  the  daughter  of  the  king,  but  with 
the  transgressor  of  the  sacred  institutions,"  replied  Ameni, 
gravely.     "Let  Paaker  know  I  wish  to  speak  with  him." 

The  poet  bowed  low  and  quitted  the  room,  the  high- 
priest  muttered  to  himself :  "  He  is  not  yet  what  he  should 
be,  and  speech  is  of  no  effect  with  him." 

For  a  while  he  was  silent,  walking  to  and  fro  in  medita- 
tion ;  then  he  said  half  aloud  :  "And  the  boy  is  destined 
to  great  things.  What  gift  of  the  gods  does  he  lack? 
He  has  the  faculty  of  learning,  of  thinking,  of  feeling, 
of  winning  all  hearts,  even  mine.  He  keeps  himself  unde- 
fined and  separate  "  suddenly  the  prelate  paused  and 

struck  his  hand  on  the  back  of  a  chair  that  stood  by  him. 
"  I  have  it ;  he  has  not  yet  felt  the  fire  of  ambition.  We 
will  light  it,  for  his  profit  and  our  own." 


CHAPTER  III. 

Pentaur  hastened  to  execute  the  commands  of  the  high- 
priest.  He  sent  a  servant  to  escort  Paaker,  who  was  wait- 
ing in  the  forecourt,  into  the  presence  of  Ameni,  while 
he  himself  repaired  to  the  physicians  to  impress  on  them 
the  most  watchful  care  of  the  unfortunate  girl. 

Many  proficients  in  the  healing  arts  *  were  brought  up 
in  the  House  of  Seti,  but  few  used  to  remain  after  passing 
the  examination  for  the  degree  of  Scribe.    The  most  gifted 

*  What  is  here  stated  with  regard  to  the  medical  schools  is  principally 
derived  from  the  medical  writings  of  the  Egyptians  themselves,  among 
which  the  "  Ebers  Papyrus  "  holds  the  first  place,  "  Medical  Papyrus 
I,"  of  Berlin  the  second,  and  a  hieratic  MS.  in  London  which,  like  the  first 
mentioned,  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  18th  dynasty,  takes  the  third 
&\so  se§  Herodotus  II.  84.  Diodorus  J.  82. 


3° 


UARDA. 


were  sent  to  Heliopolis,  where  flourished,  in  the  great 
"  Hall  of  the  Ancients,"  the  most  celebrated  medical  fac- 
ulty of  the  whole  country,  whence  they  returned  to  Thebes, 
endowed  with  the  highest  honors  in  surgery,  in  ocular 
treatment,  or  in  any  other  branch  of  their  profession,  and 
became  physicans  to  the  king  or  made  a  living  by  impart- 
ing their  learning  and  by  being  called  in  to  consult  on 
serious  cases. 

Naturally  most  of  the  doctors  lived  on  the  east  bank  of 
the  Nile,  in  Thebes  proper,  and  even  in  private  houses 
with  their  families ;  but  each  was  attached  to  a  priestly 
college. 

Whoever  required  a  physician  sent  for  him,  not  to  his 
own  house,  but  to  a  temple.  There  a  statement  was  re- 
quired of  the  complaint  from  which  the  sick  person  was 
suffering,  and  it  was  left  to  the  principal  of  the  medical 
staff  of  the  sanctuary  to  select  that  master  of  the  healing 
art  whose  special  knowledge  appeared  to  him  to  be  suited 
for  the  treatment  of  the  case. 

Like  all  priests,  the  physicians  lived  on  the  income 
which  came  to  them  from  their  landed  property,  from  the 
gifts  of  the  king,  the  contributions  of  the  laity,  and  the 
share  which  was  given  them  of  the  state-revenues ;  they 
expected  no  honorarium  from  their  patients,  but  the  re- 
stored sick  seldom  neglected  making  a  present  to  the  sanc- 
tuary whence  a  physician  had  come  to  them,  and  it  was 
not  unusual  for  the  priestly  leech  to  make  the  recovery  of 
the  sufferer  conditional  on  certain  gifts  to  be  offered  to  the 
temple. 

The  medical  knowledge  of  the  Egyptians  was,  according 
to  every  indication,  very  considerable  ;  but  it  was  natural 
that  physicians,  who  stood  by  the  bed  of  sickness  as 
"  ordained  servants  pf  the  Divinity,"  should  not  be  satis- 
fied with  a  rational  treatment  of  the  sufferer,  and  should 
rather  think  that  they  could  not  dispense  with  the  mys- 
tical effects  of  prayers  and  vows. 

Among  the  professors  of  medicine  in  the  House  of  Seti 
there  were  men  of  the  most  different  gifts  and  bent  of 
mind  ;  but  Pentaur  was  not  for  a  moment  in  doubt  as  to 
which  should  be  intrusted  with  the  treatment  of  the  girl 
who  had  been  run  over,  and  for  whom  he  felt  the  greatest 
sympathy. 


UARDA. 


The  one  he  chose  was  the  grandson  of  a  celebrated 
leech,  long  since  dead,  whose  name  of  Nebsecht  he  had 
inherited,  and  a  beloved  school-friend  and  old  comrade  of 
Pentaur. 

This  young  man  had  from  his  earliest  years  shown  high 
and  hereditary  talent  for  the  profession  to  which  he  had 
devoted  himself  ;  he  had  selected  surgery*  for  his  special 
province  at  Heliopolis,  and  would  certainly  have  attained 
the  dignity  of  teacher  there  if  an  impediment  in  his 
speech  had  not  debarred  him  from  the  viva  voce  recitation 
of  formulas  and  prayers. 

This  circumstance,  which  was  deeply  lamented  by  his 
parents  and  tutors,  was  in  fact,  in  the  best  opinions,  an 
advantage  to  him  ;  for  it  often  happens  that  apparent 
superiority  does  us  damage,  and  that  from  apparent 
defect  springs  the  saving  of  our  life. 

Thus  while  the  companions  of  Nebsecht  were  employed 
in  declaiming  or  in  singing,  he,  thanks  to  his  fettered 
tongue,  could  give  himself  up  to  his  inherited  and  almost 
passionate  love  of  observing  organic  life  ;  and  his  teachers 
indulged  up  to  a  certain  point  his  innate  spirit  of  investi- 
gation, and  derived  benefit  from  his  knowledge  of  the 
human  and  animal  structures,  and  from  the  dexterity  of 
his  handling. 

His  deep  aversion  to  the  magical  part  of  his  profession 
would  have  brought  him  heavy  punishment,  nay  very 
likely  would  have  cost  him  expulsion  from  the  craft,  if  he 
had  ever  given  it  expression  in  any  form.  But  Neb- 
secht's  was  the  silent  and  reserved  nature  of  the  learned 
man,  who,  free  from  all  desire  of  external  recognition, 
finds  a  rich  satisfaction  in  the  delights  of  investigation  ; 
and  he  regarded  every  demand  on  him  to  give  proof  of  his 
capacity  as  a  vexatious  but  unavoidable  intrusion  on  his 
unassuming  but  laborious  and  fruitful  investigations. 

Nebsecht  was  nearer  and  dearer  to  Pentaur  than  any 
other  of  his  associates. 

He  admired  his  learning  and  skill  ;  and  when  the 
slightly-built  surgeon,  who  was  indefatigable  in  his  wan- 

*  Among  the  six  hermetic  books  of  medicine  mentioned  by  Clement, 
of  Alexandria,  was  one  devoted  to  surgical  instruments;  otherwise  the 
very  badly-set  fractures  found  in  some  of  the  mummies  do  little  honor 
to  the  Egyptian  surgeons. 


3* 


derings,  roved  through  the  thickets  of  the  Nile,  the  desert, 
or  the  mountain  range,  the  young  poet-priest  accompanied 
him  with  pleasure  and  with  great  benefit  to  himself,  for  his 
compani  >n  observed  a  thousand  things  to  which  without 
him  ne  would  have  remained  forever  blind  ;  and  the  ob- 
jects around  him,  which  were  known  to  him  only  by  their 
shapes,  derived  connection  and  significance  from  the 
explanations  of  the  naturalist,  whose  intractable  tongue 
moved  freely  when  it  was  required  to  expound  to  his  friend 
the  peculiarities  of  organic  beings  whose  development  he 
had  been  the  first  to  detect. 

The  poet  was  dear  in  the  sight  of  Nebsecht,  and  he 
loved  Pentaur,  who  possessed  all  the  gifts  he  lacked; 
manly  beauty,  childlike  lightness  of  heart,  the  frankest 
openness,  artistic  power,  and  the  gift  of  expressing  in 
vord  and  song  every  emotion  that  stirred  his  soul. 

The  poet  was  as  a  novice  in  the  order  in  which  Nebsecht 
was  master,  but  quite  capable  of  understanding  its  most 
difficult  points  ;  so  it  happened  that  Nebsecht  attached 
greater  value  to  his  judgment  than  to  that  of  his  own 
colleagues,  who  showed  themselves  fettered  by  prejudice, 
while  Pentaur  s  decision  always  was  free  and  unbiased. 

The  naturalist's  room  lay  on  the  ground  floor,  and  had 
no  living  rooms  above  it,  being  under  one  of  the  granaries 
attached  to  the  temple.  It  was  as  large  as  a  public  hall, 
and  yet  Pentaur,  making  his  way  toward  the  silent  owner 
of  the  room,  found  it  everywhere  strewed  with  thick  bun- 
dles of  every  variety  of  plant,  with  cages  of  palm-twigs 
piled  four  or  five  feet  high,  and  a  number  of  jars,  large 
and  small,  covered  with  perforated  paper.  Within  these 
prisons  moved  all  sorts  of  living  creatures,  from  the  jerboa, 
the  lizard  of  the  Nile,  and  a  light-colored  species  of  owl, 
to  numerous  specimens  of  frogs,  snakes,  scorpions  and 
beetles. 

On  the  solitary  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  near 
to  a  writing-stand,  lay  bones  of  animals,  with  various 
sharp  flints  and  bronze  knives. 

In  a  corner  of  this  room  lay  a  mat,  on  which  stood  a 
wooden  head-prop,  indicating  that  the  naturalist  was  in 
the  habit  of  sleeping  on  it. 

When  Pentaur's  step  was  heard  on  the  threshold  of  this 
strange  abode,  its  owner  pushed  a  rather  large  object 


UARDA. 


33 


under  the  table,  threw  a  cover  over  it,  and  hid  a  sharp 
flint  scalpel*  fixed  into  a  wooden  handle,  which  he  had 
just  been  using,  in  the  folds  of  his  robe — as  a  school-boy 
might  hide  some  forbidden  game  from  his  master.  Then 
he  crossed  his  arms,  to  give  himself  the  aspect  of  a  man 
who  is  dreaming  in  harmless  idleness. 

The  solitary  lamp,  which  was  fixed  on  a  high  stand  near 
his  chair,  shed  a  scanty  light,  which,  however,  sufficed  to 
show  him  his  trusted  friend  Pentaur,  who  had  disturbed 
Nebsecht  in  his  prohibited  occupations.  Nebsecht  nodded 
to  him  as  he  entered,  and,  when  he  had  seen  who  it  was, 
said  : 

4 'You  need  not  have  frightened  me  so!"  Then  he 
drew  out  from  under  the  table  the  object  he  had  hidden — 
a  living  rabbit  fastened  down  to  a  board — and  continued 
his  interrupted  observations  on  the  body,  which  he  had 
opened  and  fastened  back  with  wooden  pins  while  the 
heart  continued  to  beat. 

He  took  no  further  notice  of  Pentaur,  who  for  some 
time  silently  watched  the  investigator ;  then  he  laid  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder  and  said  : 

''  Lock  your  door  more  carefully  when  you  are  busy 
with  forbidden  things." 

"They  took — they  took  away  the  bar  of  the  door 
lately,"  stammered  the  naturalist,  "when  they  caught  me 
dissecting  the  hand  of  the  forger  Ptahmes. " 

"The  mummy  of  the  poor  man  will  find  its  right  hand 
wanting,"  answered  the  poet. 

"  He  will  not  want  it  out  there." 

"  Did  you  bury  the  least  bit  of  an  image  in  his  grave  ? " 
"  Nonsense  !  " 

"You  go  very  far,  Nebsecht,  and  are  not  foreseeing. 
'  He  who  needlessly  hurts  an  innocent  animal  shall  be 
served  in  the  same  way  by  the  spirits  of  the  nether-world/ 
says  the  law  ;  but  I  see  what  you  will  say.  You  hold  it 
lawful  to  put  a  beast  to  pain,  when  you  can  thereby  in- 
crease that  knowledge  by  which  you  alleviate  the  suffer- 
ings of  man,  and  enrich  " 

*  The  Egyptians  seem  to  have  preferred  to  use  flint  instruments  foi 
surgical  purposes,  at  any  rate  for  the  opening  of  bodies  and  for  circum- 
cision.    Many  flint  instruments  have  been  found  and  preserved  in 
museums. 
3 


34 


UARDA. 


"  And  do  not  you  ?  " 

A  gentle  smile  passed  over  Pentaur's  face ;  he  leaned 
over  the  animal  and  said  : 

"  How  curious  !  the  little  beast  still  lives  and  breathes  ; 
a  man  would  have  long  been  dead  under  such  treatment. 
His  organism  is  perhaps  of  a  more  precious,  subtle,  and 
so  more  fragile  nature  ?  " 

Nebsecht  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Perhaps  !  "  he  said. 

"  I  thought  you  must  know." 

"I — how  should  I?"  asked  the  leech.  "I  have  told 
you — they  would  not  even  let  me  try  to  find  out  how  the 
hand  of  a  forger  moves." 

"  Consider,  the  Scripture  tells  us  the  passage  of  the  soul 
depends  on  the  preservation  of  the  body." 

Nebsecht  looked  up  with  his  cunning  little  eyes,  and 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  said  : 

' 'Then  no  doubt  it  is  so  ;  however,  these  things  do  not 
concern  me.  Do  what  you  like  with  the  souls  of  men  ;  I 
seek  to  know  something  of  their  bodies,  and  patch  them 
when  they  are  damaged  as  well  as  may  be." 

"Nay— Toth*  be  praised,  at  least  you  need  not  deny 
that  you  are  master  in  that  art." 

"Who  is  master,"  asked  Nebsecht,  "excepting  God? 
I  can  do  nothing,  nothing  at  all,  and  guide  my  instruments 
with  hardly  more  certainty  than  a  sculptor  condemned  to 
work  in  the  dark. " 

"  Something  like  the  blind  Resu  then,"  said  Pentaur, 
smiling,  "who  understood  painting  better  than  all  the 
painters  who  could  see." 

"  In  my  operations  there  is  a  'better'  and  a  'worse  ; 
said  Nebsecht,  "  but  there  is  nothing  '  good/  " 

"Then  we  must  be  satisfied  with  the  '  better,'  and  I  have 
come  to  claim  it,"  said  Pentaur. 

*  Toth  is  the  god  of  the  learned  and  of  physicians.  The  Ibis  was 
sacred  to  him,  and  he  was  usually  represented  as  Ibis-headed.  Ra 
created  him  "  a  beautiful  light  to  show  the  name  of  his  evil  enemy." 
Originally  the  Moon-god,  he  became  the  lord  of  time  and  measure.  lie 
is  the  weigher,  the  philosopher  among  the  gods,  the  lord  of  writing,  of 
art  and  of  learning.  The  Greeks  called  him  Hermes  Trismegistos,  i,  e.> 
threefold  or  "  very  great,"  which  was,  in  fact,  in  imitation  of  the  Egypt- 
ians, whose  name  Toth  or  Techuti  signified  twofold,  in  the  same  way 
"  very  great." 


UARDA. 


35 


"  Are  you  ill? 99 

"  Isis  be  praised,  I  feel  so  well  that  I  could  uproot  a 
palm-tree,  but  I  would  ask  you  to  visit  a  sick  girl.  The 
Princess  Bent-Anat  " 

"The  royal  family  has  its  own  physicians. " 

"Let  me  speak  !  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  has  run  over  a 
young  girl,  and  the  poor  child  is  seriously  hurt." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  student,  reflectively.  "  Is  she  over 
there  in  the  city,  or  here  in  the  Necropolis  ?  " 

"Here.    She  is  in  fact  the  daughter  of  a  paraschites. " 

"Of  a  paraschites  ? "  exclaimed  Nebsecht,  once  more 
slipping  the  rabbit  under  the  table,  "then  I  will  go." 

"You  strange  fellow.  I  believe  you  expect  to  find 
something  strange  among  the  unclean  folk." 

"  That  is  my  affair  ;  but  I  will  go.  What  is  the  man's 
name  ? " 

"  Pin  em." 

"There  will  be  nothing  to  be  done  with  him,"  muttered 
the  student,   "  however — who  knows  ?  " 

With  these  words  he  rose,  and  opening  a  tightly  closed 
flask  he  dropped  some  strychnine*  on  the  nose  and  in  the 
mouth  of  the  rabbit,  which  immediately  ceased  to  breathe. 

Then  he  laid  it  in  a  box  and  said,  "  I  am  ready." 

"But  you  cannot  go  out  of  doors  in  this  stained  dress." 

The  physician  nodded  assent,  and  took  from  a  chest  a 
clean  robe,  which  he  was  about  to  throw  on  over  the  other  ; 
but  Pentaur  hindered  him.  "  First  take  off  your  work- 
ing dress,"  he  said,  laughing.  "  I  will  help  you.  But  by 
Besa,  f  you  have  as  many  coats  as  an  onion." 

Pentaur  was  known  as  a  mighty  laugher  among  his  com- 
panions, and  his  loud  voice  rung  in  the  quiet  room,  when 
he  discovered  that  his  friend  was  about  to  put  a  third  clean 
robe  over  two  dirty  ones,  and  wear  no  less  than  three 
dresses  at  once. 

Nebsecht  laughed  too,  and  said,  "  Now  I  know  why  my 
clothes  were  so  heavy,  and  felt  so  intolerably  hot  at  noon. 
While  I  get  rid  of  my  superfluous  clothing,  will  you  go  and 
ask  the  high-priest  if  I  have  leave  to  quit  the  temple." 

*  Strychnine  was  a  poison  well  known  to  the  Egyptians. 

t  The  god  of  the  toilet  of  the  Egyptians.  He  was  represented  as  a 
deformed  pigmy.  He  led  the  women  to  conquest  in  love,  and  the  men 
in  war.    He  was  probably  of  Arab  origin. 


UARDA. 


36 

"  He  commissioned  me  to  send  a  leech  to  the  paraschites, 
and  added  that  the  girl  was  to  be  treated  like  a  queen. " 

"  Ameni  !  and  did  he  know  that  we  have  to  do  with  a 
paraschites  ? 99 

"Certainly." 

"Then  I  shall  begin  to  believe  that  broken  limbs  may 
be  set  with  vows — ay,  vows  !  You  know  I  cannot  go  alone 
to  the  sick,  because  my  leather  tongue  is  unable  to  recite 
the  sentences  or  to  wring  rich  offerings  for  the  temple  from 
the  dying.  Go,  while  I  undress,  to  the  prophet  Gagabu 
and  beg  "him  to  send  the  pastophorus  Teta,  who  usually 
accompanies  me." 

"I  would  seek  a  young  assistant  rather  than  that  blind 
old  man." 

< £  Not  at  all.  I  should  be  glad  if  he  would  stay  at  home, 
and  only  let  his  tongue  creep  after  me  like  an  eel  or  a  slug. 
Head  and  heart  have  nothing  to  do  with  his  wordy  opera- 
tions, and  they  go  on  like  an  ox  treading  out  corn."* 

"It  is  true,"  said  Pentaur ;  "just  lately  I  saw  the  old 
man  singing  out  his  litanies  by  a  sick  bed,  and  all  the  time 
quietly  counting  the  dates,  of  which  they  had  given  him.  a 
whole  sack-full." 

"He  will  be  unwilling  to  go  to  the  paraschites,  who  is 
poor,  and  he  would  sooner  seize  the  whole  brood  of  scor- 
pions yonder  than  take  a  piece  of  bread  from  the  hand  of 
the  unclean.  Tell  him  to  come  and  fetch  me,  and  drink 
some  wine.  There  stands  three  days'  allowance  ;  in  this 
hot  weather  it  dims  my  sight.  Does  the  paraschites  live  to 
the  north  or  south  of  the  Necropolis?  " 

"I  think  to  the  north.  Paaker,  the  kings  pioneer,  will 
show  you  the  way." 

"  He  !  "  exclaimed  the  student,  laughing.  "  What  day 
in  the  calendar  is  this,  then  ?  f  The  child  of  a  paraschites 
is  to  be  tended  like  a  princess,  and  a  leech  have  a  noble  to 

*  In  Egypt,  as  in  Palestine,  beasts  trod  out  the  corn,  as  we  learn  from 
many  pictures  in  the  catacombs,  even  in  the  remotest  ages;  often  with 
the  addition  of  a  weighted  sledge,  to  the  runners  of  which  rollers  are 
attached.    It  is  now  called  noreg.  Q„iw 

t  Calendars  have  been  preserved;  the  completestis  the  papyrus  Sallier 
IV.  which  has  been  admirably  treated  by  F.  Chabas.  Many  days  are 
noted  as  lucky,  unlucky,  etc.  In  the  temples  many  Calendars  of  feasts 
have  been  found,  the  most  perfect  at  Medinet  Abu,  deciphered  by 
Diimich. 


UARDA. 


37 


guide  him,  like  the  Pharaoh  himself !  I  ought  to  have 
kept  on  my  three  robes  !  " 

"The  mght  is  warm,"  said  Pentaur. 

"But  Paaker  has  strange  ways  with  him.  Only  the  day 
before  yesterday  I  was  called  to  a  poor  boy  whose  collar- 
bone he  had  simply  smashed  with  a  stick.  If  I  had  been 
the  princess  horse  I  would  rather  have  trodden  him  down 
than  a  poor  little  girl." 

"So  would  I,"  said  Pentaur,  laughing,  and  left  the  room 
to  request  the  second  prophet  Gagabu,  who  was  also  the 
head  of  the  medical  staff  of  the  House  of  Seti,  to  send  the 
blind  pastophorus  *  Teta,  with  his  friend,  as  singer  of  the 
litany. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Pentaur  knew  where  to  seek  Gagabu,  for  he  himself  had 
been  invited  to  the  banquet  which  the  prophet  had  pre- 
pared in  honor  of  two  sages  who  had  lately  come  to  the 
House  of  Seti  from  the  university  of  Chennu.f 

In  an  open  court,  surrounded  by  gayly-painted  wooden 
pillars,  and  lighted  by  many  lamps,  sat  the  feasting  priests 
in  two  long  rows  on  comfortable  arm-chairs.  Before  each 
s/:ood  a  little  table,  and  servants  were  occupied  in  supply- 
ing them  with  the  dishes  and  drinks,  which  were  laid  out 
on  a  splendid  table  in  the  middle  of  the  court.  Joints  of 
gazelle, %  roast  geese  and  ducks,  meat  pasties,  artichokes, 
asparagus  and  other  vegetables,  and  various  cakes  and 
sweetmeats  were  carried  to  the  guests,  and  their  beakers 
well  filled  with  the  choice  wines  of  which  there  was  never 
any  lack  in  the  lofts  of  the  House  of  Seti.  §    In  the 

*  The  Pastophori  were  an  order  of  priests  to  which  the  physicians  be- 
longed. 

t  Chennu  was  situated  on  a  bend  of  the  Nile,  not  far  from  the  Nubian 
frontier;  it  is  now  called  Gebel  Silsileh;  it  was  in  very  ancient  times  the 
seat  of  a  celebrated  seminary. 

|  Gazelles  were  tamed  for  domestic  animals;  we  find  them  in  the  re- 
presentations of  the  herds  of  the  wealthy  Egyptians  and  as  slaughtered 
for  food.  The  banquet  is  described  from  the  pictures  of  feasts  which 
h*ve  been  found  in  the  tombs. 

§  Cellars  maintain  the  mean  temperature  of  the  climate,  and  in  Egypt 
are  hot.    Wine  is  best  preserved  in  shadv  and  airy  lofts. 


3* 


UARDA. 


spaces  between  the  guests  stood  servants  with  metal  bowls, 
in  which  they  might  wash  their  hands,  and  towels  of  fine 

linen.  ; ' 

When  their  hunger  was  appeased,  the  wine  flowed  more 
freely,  and  each  guest  was  decked  with  sweetly-smelling 
flowers,  whose  odor  was  supposed  to  add  to  the  vivacity  of 
the  conversation. 

Many  of  the  sharers  in  this  feast  wore  long,  snow-white 
garments,  and  were  of  the  class  of  the  Initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  the  faith,  as  well  as  chiefs  of  the  different 
orders  of  priests  of  the  House  of  Seti. 

The  second  prophet,  Gagabu,  who  was  to-day  charged 
with  the  conduct  of  the  feast  by  Ameni— who  on  such  oc- 
casions only  showed  himself  for  a  few  minutes— was  a 
short,  stout  man  with  a  bald  and  almost  spherical  head. 
His  features  were  those  of  a  man  of  advancing  years,  but 
well  formed,  and  his  smoothly-shaven,  plump  cheeks  were 
well  rounded.  His  gray  eyes  looked  out  cheerfully  and 
observantly,  but  had  a  vivid  sparkle  when  he  was  excited, 
and  began  to  twitch  his  thick,  sensual  mouth. 

Close  by  him  stood  the  vacant,  highly-ornamented  chair 
of  the  high-priest,  and  next  to  him  sat  the  priests  arrived 
from  Chennu,  two  tall,  dark-colored  old  men.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  company  was  arranged  in  the  order  of 
precedency,  which  they  held  in  the  priests'  colleges,  and 
which  bore  no  relation  to  their  respective  ages. 

But  strictly  as  the  guests  were  divided  with  reference  to 
their  rank,  they  mixed  without  distinction  in  the  conver- 
sation. „ 

"We  know  how  to  value  our  call  to  Thebes,  said  the 
elder  of  the  strangers  from  Chennu,  Tuauf,  whose  essays 
were  frequently  used  in  the  schools;  "for  while,  on  one 
hand,  it  brings  us  into  the  neighborhood  of  the  Pharaoh, 
where  life,  happiness,  and  safety  flourish,  on  the  other  it 
procures  us  the  honor  of  counting  ourselves  among  your 
number ;  for,  though  the  university  of  Chennu  in  former 
times  was  so  happy  as  to  bring  up  many  great  men,  whom 
she  could  call  her  own,  she  can  no  longer  compare  with 
the  House  of  Seti. .  Even  Heliopolis  and  Memphis  are 
behind  you  ;  and  if  I,  my  humble  self,  nevertheless  ven- 
ture boldly  among  you,  it  is  because  I  ascribe  your  suc- 
cess as  much  to  the  active  influence  of  the  Divinity  in 


UARDA. 


39 


your  temple,  which  may  promote  my  acquirements  and 
achievements,  as  to  your  great  gifts  and  your  industry,  in 
which  I  will  not  be  behind  you.  I  have  already  seen 
your  high-priest  Ameni — what  a  man  !  And  who  does  not 
know  thy  name,  Gagabu,  or  thine,  Meriapu  ?  " 

' '  And  which  of  you, "  asked  the  other  new-comer,  ' '  may 
we  greet  as  the  author  of  the  most  beautiful  hymn  to 
Amon,  which  was  ever  sung  in  the  land  of  the  Sycamore  ? 
Which  of  you  is  Pentaur  ?  " 

''The  empty  chair  yonder,"  answered  Gagabu,  pointing 
to  a  seat  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  "is  his.  He  is  the 
youngest  of  us  all,  but  a  great  future  awaits  him/' 

"And  his  songs,"  added  the  elder  of  the  strangers. 

"Without  doubt,"  replied  the  chief  of  the  haruspices, 
an  old  man  with  a  large  gray  curly  head,  that  seemed  too 
heavy  for  his  thin  neck,  which  stretched  forward — per- 
haps from  the  habit  of  constantly  watching  for  signs — while 
his  prominent  eyes  glowed  with  a  fanatical  gleam.  ' '  With- 
out doubt  the  gods  have  granted  great  gifts  to  our  young 
friend  ;  but  it  remains  to  be  proved  how  he  will  use  them. 
I  perceive  a  certain  freedom  of  thought  in  the  youth, 
which  pains  me  deeply.  Although  in  his  poems  his  flexi- 
ble style  certainly  follows  the  prescribed  forms,  his  ideas 
transcend  all  tradition,  and  even  in  the  hymns  intended 
for  the  ears  of  the  people  I  find  turns  of  thought,  which 
might  well  be  called  treason  to  the  mysteries  which  only  a 
few  months  ago  he  swore  to  keep  secret.  For  instance  he 
says — and  we  sing — and  the  laity  hear  — 

"  One  only  art  Thou,  Thou  Creator  of  beings ; 
And  Thou  only  makest  all  that  is  created. 

And  again — 

"  He  is  one  only,  Alone,  without  equal; 
Dwelling  alone  in  the  holiest  of  holies."  * 

"  Such  passages  as  these  ought  not  to  be  sung  in  public, 
at  least  in  times  like  ours,  when  new  ideas  come  in  upon 
us  from  abroad,  like  the  swarms  of  locusts  from  the 
East." 

"  Spoken  to  my  very  soul  !  "  cried  the  treasurer  of  the 
temple;  "Ameni  initiated  this  boy  tpo  early  into  the 
mysteries. " 

*  Hymn  to  Anion  preserved  in  a  papyrus-roll  at  Bulaq,  and  deciphered 
by  Grebaut'and  L.  Stern. 


40 


UARDA. 


"In  my  opinion,  and  I  am  his  teacher,"  said  Gagabu, 
"our  brotherhood  may  be  proud  of  a  member  who  acids 
so  brilliantly  to  the  fame  of  our  temple.  The  people  hear 
the  hymns  without  looking  closely  at  the  meaning  of  the 
words.  I  never  saw  the  congregation  more  devout  than 
when  the  beautiful  and  deeply-feit  song  of  praise  was  sung 
at  the  feast  of  the  stairs.  * 

"Pentaur  was  always  thy  favorite,"  said  the  former 
speaker.  "Thou  wouldst  not  permit  in  any  one  else 
many  things  that  are  allowed  to  him.  His  hymns  are 
nevertheless  to  me  and  to  many  others  a  dangerous  per- 
formance, and  canst  thou  dispute  the  fact  that  we  have 
grounds  for  grave  anxiety,  and  that  things  happen  and 
circumstances  grow  up  around  us  which  hinder  us,  and 
at  last  may  perhaps  crush  us,  if  we  do  not,  while  there  is 
yet  time,  inflexibly  oppose  them  ?  " 

"Thou  bringest  sand  to  the  desert,  and  sugar  to  sprinkle 
over  honey,"  exclaimed  Gagabu,  and  his  lips  began  to 
twitch.  ' '  Nothing  is  now  as  it  ought  to  be,  and  there  will 
be  a  hard  battle  to  fight ;  not  with  the  sword,  but  with  this 
—and  this. "  And  the  impatient  man  touched  his  forehead 
and  his  lips.  "And  who  is  there  more  competent  than 
my  disciple  ?  There  is  the  champion  of  our  cause,  a  secon  d 
cap  of  Hor,  that  overthrew  the  evil  one  with  winged  sun- 
beams, and  you  come  and  would  clip  his  wings  and  biuret 
his  claws  !  Alas,  alas,  my  lords  !  will  you  never  understand 
that  a  lion  roars  louder  than  a  cat,  and  the  sun  shines 
brighter  than  an  oil-lamp  ?  Let  Pentaur  alone,  I  say  ;  or 
you  will  do  as  the  man  did,  who,  for  fear  of  the  toothache?, 
had  his  sound  teeth  drawn.  Alas,  alas  !  in  the  years  to 
come  we  shall  have  to  bite  deep  into  the  flesh,  till  the 
blood  flows,  if  we  wish  to  escape  being  eaten  up  our- 
selves  ! 

"The  enemy  is  not  unknown  to  us  also,"  said  the  elder 
priest  from  Chennu,  "  although  we,  on  the  remote  southern 
frontier  of  the  kingdom,  have  escaped  many  evils  that  in 
the  north  have  eaten  into  our  body  like  a  cancer.  Here 
foreigners  are  now  hardly  looked  upon  at  all  as  unclean 
and  devilish."  f 

*  A  particularly  solemn  festival  in  honor  of  Amon-Chem,  held  in  the 
temple  of  Meclinet-Abu. 

t  "  Typhonisch,"  belonging  to  Typhon  or  Seth.—  rramlato^ 


UARDA. 


41 


"  Hardly  ? "  exclaimed  the  chief  of  theharuspices  ;  "  they 
are  invited,  caressed,  and  honored.  Like  dust,  when  the 
simoon  blows  through  the  chinks  of  a  wooden  house,  they 
crowd  into  the  houses  and  temples,  taint  our  manners  and 
language  ;  nay,  on  the  throne  of  the  successors  of  Ra  sits 
a  descendant  " 

' 1  Presumptuous  man  !  "  cried  the  voice  of  the  high- 
priest,  who  at  this  instant  entered  the  hall.  "  Hold  your 
tongue,  and  be  not  so  bold  as  to  wag  it  against  him  who 
is  our  king,  and  wields  the  scepter  in  this  kingdom  as  the 
Vicar  of  Ra." 

The  speaker  bowed  and  was  silent  ;  then  he  and  all  the 
company  rose  to  greet  Ameni,  who  bowed  to  them  all  with 
polite  dignity,  took  his  seat,  and  turning  to  Gagabu  asked 
him  carelessly  : 

"I  find  you  all  in  most  unpriestly  excitement  ;  what 
has  disturbed  your  equanimity  ?  " 

"We  were  discussing  the  overwhelming  influx  of  for- 
eigners into  Egypt,  and  the  necessity  of  opposing  some 
resistance  to  them." 

"You  will  find  me  one  of  the  foremost  in  the  attempt," 
replied  Ameni.  "We  have  endured  much  already,  and 
news  has  arrived  from  the  north  which  grieves  me  deeply. " 

"  Have  our  troops  sustained  a  defeat  ?  " 

"They  continue  to  be  victorious,  but  thousands  of  our 
countrymen  have  fallen  victims  in  the  fight  or  on  the 
march.  Rameses  demands  fresh  reinforcements.  The 
pioneer,  Paaker,  has  brought  me  a  letter  from  our  brethren 
who  accompany  the  king,  and  delivered  a  document  from 
him  to  the  Regent,  which  contains  the  order  to  send  to 
him  fifty  thousand  fighting  men  ;  and  as' the  whole  of  the 
soldier-caste  and  all  the  auxiliaries  are  already  under  arms, 
the  bondsmen  of  the  temple,  who  till  our  acres,  are  to  be 
levied,  and  sent  into  Asia." 

A  murmur  of  disapproval  arose  at  these  words.  The 
chief  of  the  haruspices  stamped  his  foot,  and  Gagabu 
asked  : 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  ? " 

"To  prepare  to  obey  the  commands  of  the  king,"  an- 
swered Ameni,  "  and  to  call  the  heads  of  the  temples  of 
the  city  of  Amon  here  without  delay  to  hold  a  council. 
Each  must  first  in  his  holy  of  holies  seek  good  counsel  of 


42 


UARDA. 


the  Celestials.  When  we  have  come  to  a  conclusion,  we 
must  next  win  the  Viceroy  over  to  our  side.  Who  yester- 
day assisted  at  his  prayers  ?  " 

"  It  was  my  turn/'  said  the  chief -of  the  haruspices. 

"  Follow  me  to  my  abode  when  the  meal  is  over,"  com- 
manded Ameni.  "  But  why  is  our  poet  missing  from  our 
circle  ?  " 

At  this  moment  Pentaur  came  into  the  hall,  and  while 
he  bowed  easily  and  with  dignity  to  the  company  and  low 
before  Ameni,  he  prayed  him  to  grant  that  the  pastophorus 
Teta  should  accompany  the  leech  Nebsecht  to  visit  the 
daughter  of  the  paraschites. 

Ameni  nodded  consent  and  exclaimed:  "  They  must 
make  haste.  Paaker  waits  for  them  at  the  great  gate,  and 
will  accompany  them  in  my  chariot. " 

As  soon  as  Pentaur  had  left  the  party  of  feasters,  the  old 
priest  from  Chennu  exclaimed,  as  he  turned  to  Ameni  : 

"Indeed,  holy  father,  just  such  a  one  and  no  other  had 
I  pictured  your  poet.  He  is  like  the  Sun-god,  and  his 
demeanor  is  that  of  a  prince.    He  is  no  doubt  of  noble 

birth."  f  .'  . 

"  His  father  is  a  homely  gardener, "said  the  high-priest, 
"who  indeed  tills  the  land  apportioned  to  him  with  in- 
dustry and  prudence,  but  is  of  humble  birth  and  rough  ex- 
terior. He  sent  Pentaur  to  the  school  *  at  an  early  age, 
and  we  have  brought  up  the  wonderfully  gifted  boy  to  be 
what  he  now  is."  n 

"  What  office  does  he  fill  here  in  the  temple  ? 

"  He  instructs  the  elder  pupils  of  the  high-school  in 
grammar  and  eloquence  ;  he  is  also  an  excellent  observer 
of  the  starry  heavens,  and  a  most  skilled  interpreter  of 
dreams,"  replied  Gagabu.  "  But  here  he  is  again.  To 
whom  is  Paaker  conducting  our  stammering  physician 
and  his  assistant  ?  " 

"  To  the  daughter  of  the  paraschites,  who  has  been  run 
over,"  answered  Pentaur.  "  But  what  a  rough  fellow  this 
pioneer  is.  His  voice  hurts  my  ears  ;  and  he  spoke  to  our 
leeches  as  if  they  had  been  his  slaves. " 

"  He  was  vexed  with  the  commission  the  princess  had 

*It  is  certain  from  the  papyri  that  people  of  the  lower  orders  could  be 
received  into  the  priesthood.  Separate  castes  like  those  of  the  Hindoos 
were  unknown  to  the  Egyptians. 


UARDA. 


43 


devolved  on  him,"  said  the  high  priest  benevolently,  "  and 
his  unamiable  disposition  is  hardly  mitigated  by  his  real 
piety." 

"And  yet,"  said  an  old  priest,  "his  brother,  who  left  us 
some  years  ago,  and  who  had  chosen  me  for  his  guide  and 
teacher,  was  a  particularly  lovable  and  docile  youth." 

"  And  his  father/'  said  Ameni,  "was  one  of  the  most 
superior,  energetic,  and  withal  subtle-minded  of  men." 

"Then  he  has  derived  his  bad  peculiarities  from  his 
mother  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  She  is  a  timid,  amiable,  soft-hearted 
woman." 

"  But  must  the  child  always  resemble  its  parents  ?  " 
asked  Pentaur.  "  Among  the  sons  of  the  sacred  bull, 
sometimes  not  one  bears  the  distinguishing  mark  of  his 
father." 

"And  if  Paaker's  father  were  indeed  an  Apis,"  said 
Gagabu,  laughing,  "according  to  your  view  the  pioneer 
himself  belongs,  alas  !  to  the  peasant's  stable." 

Pentaur  did  not  contradict  him,  but  said  with  a  smile  : 

"  Since  he  left  the  school-bench,  where  his  school- 
fellows called  him  the  wild  ass  on  account  of  his  unruli- 
ness,  he  has  remained  always  the  same.  He  was  stronger 
than  most  of  them,  and  yet  they  knew  no  greater  pleasure 
than  putting  him  in  a  rage." 

"Children  are  so  cruel!"  said  Ameni.  "  They  judge 
only  by  appearances,  and  never  inquire  into  the  causes  of 
them.  The  deficient  are  as  guilty  in  their  eyes  as  the  idle, 
and  Paaker  could  put  forward  small  claims  to  their  in- 
dulgence. I  encourage  freedom  and  merriment,"  he  con- 
tinued, turning  to  the  priests  from  Chennu,  "among  our 
disciples,  for  in  fettering  the  fresh  enjoyment  of  youth  we 
lame  our  best  assistant.  The  excrescences  on  the  natural 
growth  of  boys  cannot  be  more  surely  or  painlessly  extir- 
pated than  in  their  wild  games.  The  school-boy  is  the 
school-boy's  best  tutor.  " 

"  But  Paaker,"  said  the  priest  Meriapu,  "was  not  im- 
proved by  the  provocations  of  his  companions.  Constant 
contests  with  them  increased  that  roughness  which  now 
makes  him  the  terror  of  his  subordinates  and  alienates  all 
affection." 

"  He  is  the  most  unhappy  of  all  the  many  youths  who 


44 


UAkDA. 


were  intrusted  to  my  care/'  said  Ameni,  "and  I  believe  I 
know  why — he  never  had  a  child-like  disposition,  even 
when  in  years  he  was  still  a  child,  and  the  gods  had 
denied  him  the  heavenly  gift  of  good-humor.  Youth 
should  be  modest,  and  he  was  assertive  from  his  childhood. 
He  took  the  sport  of  his  companions  for  earnest,  and  his 
father,  who  was  unwise  only  as  a  tutor,  encouraged  him 
to  resistance  instead  of  to  forbearance,  in  the  idea  that  he 
thus  would  be  steeled  to-the  hard  life  of  a  Mohar."  * 

y  I  have  often  heard  the  deeds  of  the  Mohar  spoken  of," 
said  the  old  priest  from  Chennu,  "yet  I  do  not  exactly 
know  what  his  office  requires  of  him." 

"  He  has  to  wander  among  the  ignorant  and  insolent 
people  of  hostile  provinces/  and  to  inform  himself  of  the 
kind  and  number  of  the  population,  to  investigate  the 
direction  of  the  mountains,  valleys,  and  rivers,  to  set 
forth  his  observations,  and  to  deliver  them  to  the  house 
of  war,  f  so  that  the  march  of  the  troops  may  be  guided 
by  them." 

"  The  Mohar,  then,  must  be  equally  skilled  as  a  war- 
rior and  as  a  scribe. " 

"  As  thou  say  est ;  and  Paaker's  father  was  not  a  hero 
only,  but  at  the  same  time  a  writer,  whose  close  and  clear 
information  depicted  the  country  through  which  he  had 
.  traveled  as  plainly  as  if  it  were  seen  from  a  mountain 
height.  He  was  the  first  who  took  the  title  of  Mohar. 
The  king  held  him  in  such  high  esteem  that  he  was  the 
inferior  to  no  one  but  the  king  himself,  and  the  minister 
of  the  house  of  war. " 

"  Was  he  of  noble  race?  " 

"Of  one  of  the  oldest  and  noblest  in  the  country.  His 
father  was  the  noble  warrior  Assa,"  answered  the  harus- 
pex,  "and  he  therefore,  after  he  himself  had  attained  the 
highest  consideration  and  vast  wealth,  escorted  home  the 
niece  of  the  King  Hor-em-heb,  who  would  have  had  a 
claim  to  the  throne,  as  well  as  the  Regent,  if  the  grand- 
father of  the  present  Rameses  had  not  seized  it  from  the 
old  family  by  violence." 

*  The  severe  duties  of  the  Mohar  are  well  known  from  the  papyrus 
of  Anastasi  I.  in  the  British  Museum,  which  has  been  ably  treated  by  F. 
Chabas,  Voyage  d'un  Egyptien. 

t  Corresponding  to  our  minister  of  war.  A  person  of  the  highest  im- 
portance even  in  the  earliest  times. 


UARDA. 


"Be  careful  of  your  words, "  said  Ameni,  interrupting 
the  rash  old  man.  "  Rameses  I.  was  and  is  the  grand- 
father of  our  sovereign,  and  in  the  king's  veins,  from  his 
mother's  side,  flows  the  blood  of  the  legitimate  descendants 
of  the  Sun-god." 

"But  fuller  and  purer  in  those  of  the  Regent/'  the  har- 
uspex  ventured  to  retort. 

"But  Rameses  wears  the  crown,"  cried  Ameni,  "and 
will  continue  to  wear  it  so  long  as  it  pleases  the  gods. 
Reflect  ! — your  hairs  are  gray,  and  seditious  words  are  like 
sparks,  which  are  borne  by  the  wind,  but  which,  if  they 
fall,  may  set  our  home  in  a  blaze.  Continue  your  feast- 
ing, my  lords  ;  but  I  would  request  you  to  speak  no  more 
this  evening  of  the  king  and  his  new  decree.  You,  Pen- 
taur,  fulfill  my  orders  to-morrow  morning  with  energy 
and  prudence." 

The  high-priest  bowed  and  left  the  feast. 

As  soon  as  the  door  was  shut  behind  him,  the  old  priest 
from  Chennu  spoke. 

"What  we  have  learned  concerning  the  pioneer  of  the 
king,  a  man  who  holds  so  high  an  office,  surprises  me. 
Does  he  distinguish  himself  by  a  special  acuteness  ?  " 

"  He  was  a  steady  learner,  but  of  moderate  ability." 

"  Is  the  rank  of  Mohar  then  as  high  as  that  of  a  prince 
of  the  empire  ?  " 

"  By  no  means." 

"How  then  is  it  ?" 

"It  is,  as  it  is,"  interrupled  Gagabu.  "The  sun  of  the 
vine-dresser  has  his  mouth  full  of  grapes,  and  the  child  of 
the  door-keeper  opens  the  lock  with  words." 

"  Never  mind,  "said  an  old  priest  who  had  hitherto  kept 
silence.  "  Paaker  earned  for  himself  the  post  of  Mohar, 
and  possesses  many  praiseworthy  qualities.  He  is  inde- 
fatigable and  faithful,  quails  before  no  danger,  and  has 
always  been  earnestly  devout  from  his  boyhood.  When 
the  other  scholars  carried  their  pocket-money  to  the  fruit- 
sellers  and  confectioners  at  the  temple  gates,  he  would  buy 
£eese,  and,  when  his  mother  sent  him  a  handsome  sum, 
young  gazelles,  to  offer  to  the  gods  on  the  altars.  No 
noble  in  the  land  owns  a  greater  treasure  of  charms  and 
images  of  the  gods  than  he.  To  the  present  time  he  is 
the  most  pious  of  men,  and  the  offerings  for  the  dead, 


46 


UARDA. 


which  he  brings  in  the  name  of  his  late  father,  may  be 
said  to  be  positively  kingly/' 

"  We  owe  him  gratitude  for  these  gifts,"  said  the  treas- 
urer, "  and  the  high  honor  he  pays  his  father  even  after 
his  death  is  exceptional  and  far-famed." 

"He  emulates  him  in  every  respect,"  sneered  Gagabu  ; 
"and  though  he  does  not  resemble  him  in  any  feature' 
grows  more  and  more  like  him.  But  unfortunately  it  is  as 
the  goose  resembles  the  swan,  or  the  owl  resembles  the 
eagle.  For  his  father's  noble  pride  he  has  overbearing 
haughtiness ;  for  kindly  severity,  rude  harshness  ;  for 
dignity,  conceit;  for  perseverance,  obstinacy.  Devout 
he  is,  and  we  profit  by  his  gifts.  The  treasurer  may  rejoice 
over  them,  and  the  dates  off  a  crooked  tree  taste  as  well 
as  those  off  a  straight  one.  But  if  I  were  the  Divinity  I 
should  prize  them  no  higher  than  a  hoopoe  s  crest ;  for 
He,  who  sees  into  the  heart  of  the  giver— alas  !  what  does 
He  see  !  Storms  and  darkness  are  of  the  dominion  of 
Seth,  and  in  there—in  there,"  and  the  old  man  struck  his 
broad  breast,  "  all  is  wrath  and  tumult,  and  there  is  not  a 
gleam  of  the  calm  blue  heaven  of  Ra  that  shines  soft  and 
pure  in  the  soul  of  the  pious  ;  no,  not  a  spot  as  large  as 
this  wheaten-cake." 

"Hast  thou  then  sounded  to  the  depths  of  his  soul?" 
asked  the  haruspex. 

"As  this  beaker  !  "  exclaimed  Gagabu,  and  he  touched 
the  rim  of  an  empty  drinking-vessel.  ' '  For  fifteen  years 
without  ceasing.  The  man  has  been  of  service  to  us, 
is  90  still,  and  will  continue  to  be.  Our  leeches  extract 
salves  from  bitter  gall  and  deadly  poisons  ;  and  folks  like 
these  "  • 

"  Hatred  speaks  in  thee,"  said  the  haruspex,  interrupt- 
ing the  indignant  old  man. 

( 1  Hatred  !  "  he  retorted,  and  his  lips  quivered.  '  <  Hatred  ?  " 
and  he  struck  his  breast  with  his  clenched  hand.  "  It  is 
true,  it  is  no  stranger  to  this  old  heart.  But  open  thine 
ears,  O  haruspex,  and  all  you  others  too  shall  hear.  I 
recognize  two  sorts  of  hatred.  The  one  is  between  man 
and  man  ;  that  I  have  gagged,  smothered,  killed,  annihi- 
lated—with what  efforts,  the  gods  know.  In  past  years  I 
have  certainly  tasted  its  bitterness,  and  served  it  like  a 
wasp,  which,  though  it  knows  that  in  stinging  it  must  die, 


UARDA. 


47 


yet  uses  its  sting.  But  now  I  am  old  in  years,  that  is  in 
knowledge,  and  I  know  that  of  all  the  powerful  impulses 
which  stir  our  hearts,  one  only  comes  solely  from  Seth, 
one  only  belongs  wholly  to  the  Evil  one — and  that  is  hatred 
between  man  and  man.  Covetousness  may  lead  to  in- 
dustry, sensual  appetites  may  beget  noble  fruit,  but  hatred 
is  a  devastator,  and  in  the  soul  that  it  occupies  all  that  is 
noble  grows  not  upward  and  toward  the  light,  but  down- 
ward to  the  earth  and  to  darkness.  Everything  may  be 
forgiven  by  the  gods,  save  only  hatred  between  man  and 
man.  But  there  is  another  sort  of  hatred  that  is  pleasing 
to  the  gods,  and  which  you  must  cherish  if  you  would  not 
miss  their  presence  in  your  souls  ;  that  is,  hatred  for  all 
that  hinders  the  growth  of  light  and  goodness  and  purity 
—the  hatred  of  Horus  of  Seth.  The  gods  would  punish 
me  if  I  hated  Paaker,  whose  father  was  dear  to  me  ;  but 
the  spirits  of  darkness  would  possess  the  old  heart  in  my 
breast  if  it  were  devoid  of  horror  for  the  covetous  and  sor- 
did devotee,  who  would  fain  buy  earthly  joys  of  the  gods 
with  gifts  of  beasts  and  wine,  as  men  exchange  an  ass  for 
a  robe,  in  whose  soul  seethe  dark  promptings.  Paaker's 
gifts  can  no  more  be  pleasing  to  the  Celestials  than  a  cask 
of  attar  of  rose  would  please  thee,  haruspex,  in  which 
scorpions,  centipedes,  and  venomous  snakes  were  swim- 
ming. I  have  long  led  this  man's  prayers,  and  never 
have  I  heard  him  crave  for  noble  gifts,  but  a  thousand 
times  for  the  injury  of  the  men  he  hates." 

' '  In  the  holiest  prayers  that  come  down  to  us  from  the 
past/  said  the  haruspex,  ' ' the  gods  are  entreated  to  throw 
our  enemies  under  our  feet ;  and,  besides,  I  have  often 
heard  Paaker  pray  fervently  for  the  bliss  of  his  parents. " 

"You  are  a  priest  and  one  of  the  initiated,"  cried 
Gagabu,  "  and  you  know  not — or  will  not  seem  to  know 
■ — that  by  the  enemies  for  whose  overthrow  we  pray,  are 
meant  only  the  demons  of  darkness  and  the  outlandish 
peoples  by  whom  Egypt  is  endangered  !  Paaker  prayed 
for  his  parents?  Ay,  and  so  will 'he  for  his  children,  for 
they  will  be  his  future  as  his  forefathers  are  his  past.  If 
he  had  a  wife,  his  offerings  would  be  for  her  too,  for  she 
would  be  the  half  of  his  own  present." 

"  In  spite  of  all  this,"  said  the  haruspex  Septah,  "you 
are  too  hard  in  your  judgment  of  Paaker,  for  although  he 


43 


UARDA. 


was  born  under  a  lucky  sign,  the  Hathors  denied  him  all 
that  makes  youth  happy.  .  The  enemy  for  whose  de- 
struction he  prays  is  Mena,  the  kings  charioteer,  and. 
indeed,  he  must  have  been  of  superhuman  magnanimity, 
or  of  unmanly  feebleness,  if  he  could  have  wished  well  to 
the  man  who  robbed  him  of  the  beautiful  wife  who  was 
destined  for  him." 

"How  could  that  happen?"  asked  the  priest  from 
Chennu.     "A  betrothal  is  sacred." 

"  Paaker,"  replied  Septah,  "was  attached  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  ungoverned  but  passionate  and  faithful 
heart  to  his  cousin  Nefert,  the  sweetest  maid  in  Thebes, 
the  daughter  of  Katuti,  his  mother's  sister  ;  and  she  was 
promised  to  him  to  wife.  Then  his  father,  whom  he  ac- 
companied on  his  marches,  was  mortally  wounded  in 
Syria.  The  king  stood  by  his  death-bed,  and  granting  his 
last  request,  invested  his  son  with  his  rank  and  office. 
Paaker  brought  the  mummy  of  his  father  home  to  Thebes, 
gave  him  a  princely  interment,  and  then  before  the  time 
of  mourning  was  over,  hastened  back  to  Syria,  where, 
while  the  king  returned  to  Egypt,  it  was  his  duty  to  re- 
connoiter  the  new  possessions.  At  last  he  could  quit  the 
scene  of  war  with  the  hope  of  marrying  Nefert.  He  rode 
his  horse  to  death  the  sooner  to  reach  the  goal  of  his  de- 
sires ;  but  when  he  reached  Tanis,  the  city  of  Rameses,  the 
news  met  him  that  his  affianced  cousin  had  been  given  to 
another,  the  handsomest  and  bravest  man  in  Thebes — the 
noble  Mena.  The  more  precious  a  thing  is  that  we  hope 
to  possess,  the  more  we  are  justified  in  complaining  of 
him  who  contests  our  claim,  and  can  win  it  from  us. 
Paaker's  blood  must  have  been  as  cold  as  a  frog  s  if  he 
could  have  forgiven  Mena  instead  of  hating  him,  and  the 
cattle  he  has  offered  to  the  gods  to  bring  down  their 
wrath  on  the  head  of  the  traitor  may  be  counted  by  hun- 
dreds. " 

' '  And  if  you  accept  them,  knowing  why  they  are  offered,  - 
you  do  unwisely  and  wrongly,"  exclaimed  Gagabu.  "  If 
I  were  a  layman,  I  would  take  good  care  not  to  worship 
a  Divinity  who  condescends  to  serve  the  foulest  human 
ends  for  a  reward.  But  the  Omniscient  Spirit,  that  rules 
the  world  in  accordance  with  the  eternal  laws,  knows 
nothing  of  these  sacrifices,  which  only  tickle  the  nostrils 


UARDA.  4<> 

of  the  Evil  one.  The  treasurer  rejoices  when  a  beautiful 
spotless  heifer  is  driven  in  among  our  herds.  But  beth 
rubs  his  red  hands*  with  delight  that  he  accepts  it.  My 
friends  I  have  heard  the  vows  which  Paaker  has  poured 
out  over  our  pure  altars,  like  hogwash  that  men  set  before 
swine  Pestilence  and  boils  has  he  called  down  on  Mena, 
and  barrenness  and  heart-ache  on  the  poor  sweet  woman  ; 
and  I  really  cannot  blame  her  for  preferring  a  battle-horse 
to  a  hippopotamus— a  Mena  to  a  Paaker."  _ 

"Yet  the  Immortals  must  have  thought  his  remon- 
strances less  unjustifiable,  and  have  stricter  views  as  to 
the  inviolable  nature  of  a  betrothal  than  you,  said  the 
treasurer,  "for  Nefert,  during  four  years  of  married  lite, 
has  passed  only  a  few  weeks  with  her  wandering  husband, 
and  remains  childless.  It  is  hard  to  me  to  understand  how 
vou  Gagabu,  who  so  often  absolve  where  we  condemn, 
can' so  relentlessly  judge  so  great  a  benefactor  to  our 

tW"  And  I  fail  to  comprehend,"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
<  how  you— you  whoso  willingly  condemn^  can  so  weakly 
excuse  this— this— call  him  what  you  will.  ' 

"He  is  indispensable  to  us  at  this  time,  said  the 
haruspex.  .  .    ,  T 

"Granted,"  said  Gagabu,  lowering  his  tone.  And  t 
think  still  to  make  use  of  him,  as  the  high-priest  has  done 
in  past  years  with  the  best  effect  when  dangers  have  threat- 
ened us  ;  and  a  dirty  road  serves  when  he  makes  for  the 
eoal  The  gods  themselves  often  permit  safety  to  come 
from  what  is  evil ;  but  shall  we  therefore  call  evil  good- 
or  say  the  hideous  is  beautiful  ?  Make  use  of  the  king  s 
pioneer  as  you  will,  but  do  not,  because  you  are  indebted 
to  him  for  gifts,  neglect  to  judge  him  according  to  his  im- 
aginings and  deeds,  if  you  would  deserve  your  title  of  the 
Initiated  and  the  Enlightened.  Let  him  bring  his  cattle 
into  our  temple  and  pour  his  gold  into  our  treasury,  but 
do  not  defile  your  souls  with  the  thought  that  the  offerings 
of  such  a  heart  and  such  a  hand  are  pleasing  to  the  Divin- 
ity. Above  all,"  and  the  voice  of  the  old  man  had  a 
heartfelt  impressiveness,  "Above  all,  do  not  flatter  the 

*  Red  was  the  color  of  Seth  and  Typhon.  The  evil  one  is  named  the 
Red  as  for  instance  in  the  papyrus  of  Ebers.  Red-haured  men  wera 
ty phonic. 

4 


5° 


UARDA. 


erring-  man— and  this  is  what  you  do — with  the  idea  that 

he  is  walking  in  the  right  way  ;  for  your,  for  our  first  duty, 
O  my  friends,  is  always  this — to  guide  the  souls  of  those 
who  trust  in  us  to  goodness  and  truth/' 

"  Oh,  my  master  !  "  cried  Pentaur,  "  how  tender  is  thy 
severity." 

"I  have  shown  the  hideous  sores  of  this  man's  soul," 
said  the  old  man,  as  he  rose  to  quit  the  hall.  "Your 
praise  will  aggravate  them,  your  blame  will  tend  to  heal 
them.  Nay,  if  you  are  not  content  to  do  your  duty,  old 
Gagabu  will  come  some  day  with  his  knife,  and  will  throw 
the  sick  man  down  and  cut  out  the  canker." 

During  this  speech  the  haruspex  had  frequently  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  Now  he  said,  turning  to  the  priests  from 
Chennu : 

"Gagabu  is  a  foolish,  hot-headed  old  man,  and  you 
have  heard  from  his  lips  just  such  a  sermon  as  the  young 
scribes  keep  by  them  when  they  enter  on  the  duties  of 
the  care  of  souls.  His  sentiments  are  excellent,  but  he 
easily  overlooks  small  things  for  the  sake  of  great  ones. 
Ameni,  would  tell  you  that  ten  souls,  no,  nor  a  hundred, 
do  not  matter  when  the  safety  of  the  whole  is  in  question." 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  night  during  which  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  and  her 
followers  had  knocked  at  the  gate  of  the  House  of  Seti  was 
past. 

The  fruitful  freshness  of  the  dawn  gave  way  to  the  heat, 
which  began  to  pour  down  from  the  deep-blue  cloudless 
7/ault  of  heaven.  The  eye  could  no  longer  gaze  at  the 
mighty  globe  of  light  whose  rays  pierced  the  fine  white 
dust  which  hung  over  the  declivity  of  the  hills  that  inclosed 
the  City  of  the  Dead  on  the- west.  The  limestone  rocks 
showed  with  blinding  clearness  ;  the  atmosphere  quivered 
as  if  heated  over  a  flame  ;  each  minute  the  shadows  grew 
shorter  and  their  outlines  sharper. 

All  the  beasts  which  we  saw  peopling  the  Necropolis  in 


UARDA. 


the  evening-  had  now  withdrawn  into  their  lurking  places; 
only  man  defied  the  heat  of  the  summer  day.  Undis- 
turbed he  accomplished  his  daily  work,  and  only  laid  his 
tools  aside  for  a  moment,  with  a  sigh,  when  a  cooling 
breath  blew  across  the  overflowing  stream  and  fanned  his 
brow. 

The  harbor  or  dock,  where  those  landed  who  had  crossed 
from  eastern  Thebes,  was  crowded  with  gay  barks  and 
boats  waiting  to  return. 

The  crews  of  rowers  and  steersmen  who  were  attached 
to  priestly  brotherhoods  or  noble  houses,  were  enjoying  a 
rest  till  the  parties  they  had  brought  across  the  Nile  drew 
toward  them  again  in  long  processions. 

Under  a  wide-spreading  sycamore  a  vendor  of  eatables, 
spirituous  drinks,  and  acids  for  cooling  the  water,  had  set 
up  his  stall,  and  close  to  him,  a  crowd  of  boatmen  and 
drivers  shouted  and  disputed  as  they  passed  the  time  m 
eager  games  at  morra.  * 

Many  sailors  lay  on  the  decks  of  the  vessels,  others  on 
the  shore;  here  in  the  thin  shade  of  a  palm-tree,  there  in 
the  full  blaze  of  the  sun,  from  whose  burning  rays  they 
protected  themselves  by  spreading  the  cotton  cloths, 
which  served  them  for  cloaks,  over  their  faces. 

Between  the  sleepers  passed  bondmen  and  slaves,  brown 
and  black,  in  long  files  one  behind  the  other,  bending 
under  the  weight  of  heavy  burdens  which  had  to  be  con- 
veyed to  their  destination  at  the  temples  for  sacrifice,  or 
to  the  dealers  in  various  wares.  Builders  dragged  blocks 
of  stone,  which  had  come  from  the  quarries  of  Chennu 
and  Suan,  on  sledges  to  the  site  of  a  new  temple;  laborers 
poured  water  under  the  runners,  that  the  heavily  loaded 
and  dried  wood  should  not  take  fire. 

All  these  workingmen  were  driven  with  sticks  by  their 
overseers,  and  sang  at  their  labor  ;  but  the  voices  of  the 
leaders  sounded  muffled  and  hoarse,  though,  when  after 
their  frugal  meal  they  enjoyed  an  hour  of  repose,  they 
might  be  heard  loud  enough.  Their  parched  throats 
refused  to  sing  in  the  noontide  of  their  labor. 

*In  Latin  "micare  digitis."  A  game  still  constantly  played  in  the 
south  of  Europe,  and  frequently  represented  by  the  Egyptians.  The 
games  depicted  in  the  monuments  are  collected  by  Minutoh,  in  the 
Leipziger  Illustrirte  Zeitung,  1852. 


52 


UARDA. 


Thick  clouds  of  gnats  followed  these  tormented  gang*, 
who  with  dull  and  spirit-broken  endurance  suffered  alike 
the  stings  of  the  insects  and  the  blows  of  their  driver. 
The  gnats  pursued  them  to  the  very  heart  of  the  City  of 
the  Dead,  where  they  joined  themselves  to  the  flies  and 
wasps,  which  swarmed  in  countless  crowds  round  the 
slaughter-houses,  cooks'  shops,  stalls  of  fried  fish,  and 
booths  of  meat,  vegetables,  honey,  cakes  and  drinks,  which 
were  doing  a  brisk  business  in  spite  of  the  noontide  heat 
and  the  oppressive  atmosphere  heated  and  filled  with  a 
mixture  of  odors. 

The  nearer  one  got  to  the  Libyan  frontier,  the  quieter  it 
became,  and  the  silence  of  death  reigned  in  the  broad 
northwest  valley,  where  in  the  southern  slope  the  father 
of  the  reigning  king  had  caused  his  tomb  to  be  hewn,  and 
where  the  stone-mason  of  the  Pharaoh  had  prepared  a 
rock  tomb  for  him. 

A  newly-made  road  led  into  this  rocky  gorge,  whose 
steep  yellow  and  brown  walls  seemed  scorched  by  the 
sun  in  many  blackened  spots,  and  looked  like  a  ghostly 
array  of  shades  that  had  risen  from  the  tombs  in  the  night 
and  remained  there. 

At  the  entrance  of  this  valley  some  blocks  of  stone 
formed  a  sort  of  doorway,  and  through  this,  indifferent 
to  the  heat  of  the  day,  a  small  but  brilliant  troop  of  men 
was  passing. 

Four  slender  youths  as  staff  bearers  led  the  processior/, 
each  clothed  only  with  an  apron  and  a  flowing  head-cloth 
of  gold  brocade  ;  the  midday  sun  played  on  their  smooth, 
moist,  red-brown  skins,  and  their  supple  naked  feet  hardly 
stirred  the  stones  on  the  road. 

Behind  them  followed  an  elegant,  two-wheeled  chariot 
with  two  prancing,  brown  horses,  bearing  tufts  of  red  and 
blue  feathers  on  their  noble  heads,  and  seeming  by  the 
bearing  of  their  arched  necks  and  flowing  tails  to  express 
their  pride  in  the  gorgeous  housings,  richly  embroidered 
in  silver,  purple,  and  blue  and  golden  ornaments,  which 
they  wore — and  even  more  in  their  beautiful,  royal 
charioteer,  Bent-Anat,  the  daughter  of  Rameses,  at  whoe^ 
lightest  word  they  pricked  their  ears,  and  whose  little  hand 
gukled  them  wi*h  a  scarcely  perceptible  touch. 

_  :.<>  young  men  dressed  like  the  other  runners  followed 


tJARDA.  S3 

the  chariot,  and  kept  the  rays  of  the  sun  off  the  face  of 
their  mistress  with  large  fans  of  snow-white  ostrich  feathers 
fastened  to  long  wands. 

By  the  side  of  Bent-Anat,  so  long  as  the  road  was  wide 
enough  to  allow  of  it,  was  carried  Nefert,  the  wife  of 
Mena,  in  her  gilt  litter,  borne  by  eight  tawny  bearers,  who, 
running  with  a  swift  and  equally  measured  step,  did  not 
remain  far  behind  the  trotting  horses  of  the  princess  and 
her  fan-bearers. 

Both  the  women,  whom  we  now  see  for  the  tirst  time 
in  daylight,  were  of  remarkable  but  altogether  different 

beauty.  -  ,  c 

The  wife  of  Mena  had  preserved  the  appearance  ot  a 
maiden  ;  her  large  almond-shaped  eyes  had  a  dreamy  sur- 
prised look  out  from  under  her  long  eyelashes,  and  her 
figure  of  hardly  the  middle-height  had  acquired  a  little 
stoutness  without  losing  its  youthful  grace.  No  drop  of 
Egyptian  blood  flowed  in  her  veins,  as  could  be  seen  in  the 
color  of  her  skin,  which  was  of  that  fresh  and  equal  hue 
which  holds  a  medium  between  golden-yellow  and  bronze- 
brown,  and  which  to  this  day  is  so  charming  m  the 
maidens  of  Abyssinia,  in  her  straight  nose,  her  well-formed 
brow,  in  her  smooth  but  thick  black  hair,  and  in  the  fine- 
ness of  her  hands  and  feet,  which  were  ornamented  with 
circles  of  gold.  ,  - 

The  maiden  princess  next  to  her  had  hardly  reached  her 
nineteenth  year,  and  yet  something  of  a  womanly  self- 
consciousness  betrayed  itself  in  her  demeanor.  Her  stat- 
ure was  by  almost  a  head  taller  than  that  of  her  friend, 
her  skin  was  fairer,  her  blue  eyes  kind  and  frank,  without 
tricks  of  glance,  but  clear  and  honest,  her  profile  was 
noble  but  sharply  cut,  and  resembled  that  of  her  father,  as 
a  landscape  in  the  mild  and  softening  light  of  the  moon 
resembles  the  same  landscape  in  the  broad  clear  light  of 
day  The  scarcely  perceptible  aquiline  of  her  nose,  she 
inherited  from  her  Semitic  ancestors,*  as  well  as  the 
slightly  waving  abundance  of  her  brown  hair,  over  which 
she  wore  a  blue  and  white  striped  silk  kerchief  ^  its  care- 
fully pleated  folds  were  held  in  place  by  a  gold  ring,  from 

*  Many  portraits  have  come  down  to  us  of  Rar  eses;  the  finest  is  the 
noble  statue  preserved  at  Turin.  A  likeness  ,ias  been  detected  be- 
tween its  profile,  with  its  slightly  aquiline  nose,  and  that  of  Kapoleon  i. 


54  UARDA. 

which  in  front  a  horned  uraeus  *  raised  its  head  crowned 
with  a  disk  of  rubies.  From  her  left  temple  a  laree  tress 
pleated  with  gold  thread,  hung  down  to  her  waist,  the  si™ 
of  her  royal  birth.  She  wore  a  purple  dress  of  fine,  almost 
transparent  stuff,  that  was  confined  with  a  gold  belt  and 
straps.  Round  her  throat  was  fastened  a  necklace  like  a 
collar,  made  of  pearls  and  costly  stones,  and  hanging  low 
down  on  her  well-formed  bosom. 

of  noblelbirth  PrinC6SS  St°°d  her  charioteer>  a«  old  officer 
Three  litters  followed  the  chariot  of  the  princess,  and  in 
each  sat  two  officers  of  the  court ;  then  came  a  dozen  of 
slaves  ready  for  any  service,  and  lastly,  a  crowd  of  wand- 
bearers  to  drive  off  the  idle  populace,  and  of  lightly  armed 
soldiers,  who— dressed  only  in  the  apron  and  head-cloth— 
each  bore  a  dagger-shaped  sword  in  his  girdle,  an  ax  in 
his  right  hand,  and  in  his  left,  in  token  of  free  service,  a 
palm-branch.  ' 

Like  dolphins  round  a  ship,  little  girls  in  long  shirt- 
shaped  garments  swarmed  round  the  whole  length  of  the 
advancing  procession,  bearing  water-jars  on  their  steady 
heads,  and  at  a  sign  from  any  one  who  was  thirsty  were 
ready  to  give  him  a  drink.  With  steps  as  light  as  the 
gazelle  they  often  outran  the  horses,  and  nothing  could  be 
more  graceful  than  the  action  with  which  the  taller  ones 
bent  over  with  the  water-jars  held  in  both  arms  to  the 
drinker. 

The  courtiers,  cooled  and  shaded  by  waving  fans,  and 
hardly  perceiving  the  noontide  heat,  conversed  at  their 
ease  about  indifferent  matters,  and  the  princesses  pitied 
the  poor  horses,  who  were  tormented  as  they  went  by 
annoying  gad-flies  :  while  the  runners  and  soldiers  the 
litter-bearers  and  fan-bearers,  the  girls  with  their  jars  and 
the  panting  slaves,  were  compelled  to  exert  themselves 
under  the  rays  of  the  midday  sun  in  the  service  of  their 
masters,  till  their  sinews  threatened  to  crack  and  their 
lungs  to  burst  their  bodies. 

.  ^  a  sPot  where  the  road  widened,  and  where,  to  the 
right,  lay  the  steep  cross-valley  where  the  last  kings  of  the 

*A  venomous  Egyptian  serpent  which  was  adopted  as  the  symbol  of 
sovereign  power,  m  consequence  of  its  swift  effects  for  life  or  death  It 
is  never  wanting  to  the  diadem  of  the  Pharaohs. 


UARDA.  55 


dethroned  race  were  interred,  the  procession  stopped  at  a 
sfgn Tom  Paaker,  who  preceded  the  princess,  and  who 
clrove  his  fiery  black  Syrian  horses  with  so  heavy  a  hand 
that  the  bloody  foam  fell  from  their  bits. 

When  the  Mohar  had  given  the  reins  into  the  hand  of  a 
servant,  he  sprang  from"  his  chariot,  and  after  the  usual 
form  of  obeisance,  said  to  the  princess  : 

"  In  this  valley  lies  the  loathsome  den  of  the  people,  to 
whom  thou,  O  princess,  dost  deign  to  do  such  high  honor. 
Permit  me  to  go  forward  as  guide  to  thy  party. 

"We  will  go  on  foot,"  said  the  princess,  «  and  leave  our 
followers  behind  here."  .     ,    ,  , 

Paaker  bowed,  Bent-Anat  threw  the  reins  to  her  char- 
ioteer and  sprang  to  the  ground,  the  wife  of  Mena  and  the 
courtiers  left  their  litters?  and  the  fan-bearers  and  cham- 
berlains were  about  to  accompany  their  mistress  on  foot 
into  the  little  valley,  when  she  turned  round  and  ordered 
-  Remain  behind,  all  of  you.    Only  Paaker  and  Nefert 

need  sro  with  me.  ,  ,  •  u 

The  princess  hastened  forward  into  the  gorge  which 
was  oppressive  with  the  noontide  heat ;  but  she  moderated 
her  steps  as  soon  as  she  observed  that  the  frailer  Nefert 
found  it  difficult  to  follow  her. 

At  a  bend  in  the  road  Paaker  stood  still,  and  with  him 
Bent-Anat  and  Nefert.  Neither  of  them  had  spoken  a 
word  during  their  walk.  The  valley  w^  perfectly  sU 
and  deserted  ;  on  the  highest  pinnacles  of  the  cliff,  which 
rose  perpendicularly  to  the  right,  sat  a  long  row  of  vult- 
ures, as  motionless  as  if  the  midday  heat  had  taken  all 
strength  out  of  their  wings.  ,     .  ,D 

Paaker  bowed  before  them  as  being  the  sacred  animals 
of  the  Great  Goddess  of  Thebes,*  and  the  two  women 
silently  followed  his  example.  ,    .     ■  , 

"There,"  said  the  Mohar,  pointing  to  two  huts  close  to 
the  left  cliff  of  the  valley,  built  of  bricks  made  of  dried 
Nile  mud,  "there,  the  neatest,  next  the  cave  in  the 
rock  " 

Bent-Anat  went  toward  the  solitary  hovel  with  a  beat- 
ing heart.    Paaker  let  the  ladies  go  first.    A  few  steps 

*She  formed  a  triad  with  Amon  and  Chunsu i  under  the  name  of 
MuA  The  great  "  Sanctuary  of  the  kingdom  "-the  temple  of  Karnak 
—was  dedicated  to  them. 


UARDA. 


brought  them  to  an  ill-constructed  fence  of  reeds,  palm- 
branches,  briars,  and  maize  haulms,  roughly  thrown  to- 
gether. A  heart-rending  cry  of  pain  from  within  the  hut 
trembled  in  the  air  and  arrested  the  steps  of  the  two 
women.  Nefert  staggered  and  clung  to  her  stronger  com- 
panion, whose  beating  heart  she  seemed  to  hear.  Both 
stood  a  few  minutes  as  if  spell-bound,  then  the  princess 
called  Paaker,  and  said  : 

"  You  go  first  into  the  house. n 

Paaker  bowed  to  the  ground. 

"1  will  call  the  man  out,"  he  said,  "but  how  dare  we 
step  over  his  threshold  ?  Thou  knowest  such  a  proceed- 
ing will  defile  us." 

Nefert  looked  pleadingly  at  Bent-Anat,  but  the  princess 
repeated  her  command. 

"  Go  before  me  ;  I  have  no  fear  of  defilement." 

The  Mohar  still  hesitated. 

"Wilt  thou  provoke  the  gods,  and  defile  thyself?  " 

But  the  princess  let  him  say  no  more  ;  she  signed  to 
Nefert,  who  raised  her  hands  in  horror  and  aversion  ;  so, 
with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders,  she  left  her  companion 
behind  with  the  Mohar,  and  stepped  through  an  opening 
in  the  hedge  into  a  little  court,  where  lay  two  brown 
goats  ;  a  donkey  with  his  forelegs  tied  together  stood  by, 
and  a  few  hens  were  scattering  the  dust  about  in  a  vain 
search  for  food. 

Soon  she  stood,  alone,  before  the  door  of  the  paraschites' 
hovel.  No  one  perceived  her,  but  she  could  not  take 
her  eyes — accustomed  only  to  scenes  of  order  and  splen- 
dor— from  the  gloomy  but  wonderfully  strange  picture 
which  riveted  her  attention  and  her  sympathy.  At  last 
she  went  up  to  the  doorway,  which  was  too  low  for  her 
tall  figure.  Her  heart  shrunk  painfully  within  her,  and 
she  would  have  wished  to  grow  smaller,  and,  instead  of 
shining  in  splendor,  to  have  found  hejself  wrapped  in  a 
beggar  s  robe. 

Could  she  step  into  this  hovel  decked  with  gold  and 
jewels  as  if  in  mockery  ? — like  a  tyrant  who  should  feast 
at  a  groaning  table  and  compel  the  starving  to  look  on  at 
the  banquet.  Her  delicate  perception  made  her  feel 
what  trenchant  discord  her  appearance  offered  to  all  that 
surrounded  her,  and  the  discord  pained  her  ;  for  she  could 


UARDA.  S7 


not  conceal  from  herself  that  misery  and  eternal  mean- 
ness were  here  entitled  to  give  the  key-note  and  that  her 
magnificence  derived  no  especial  grandeur  from  contrast 
with  all  these  modest  accessories,  amid  dust  gloom,  and 
suffering,  but  rather  became  disproportionate  and  hid- 
eous like  a  giant  among  pigmies.  . 

She  had  already  gone  too  far  to  turn  back,  or  she  would 
willingly  have  done  so.  The  longer  she  gazed  into  the 
hut  the  more  deeply  she  felt  the  impotence  of  her 
princely  power,  the  nothingness  of  the  splendid  gifts  with 
which  she  approached  it,  and  that  she  mighty not  re  ad  the 
dusty  floor  of  this  wretched  hovel  but  in  all  humility,  and 

t0 ThT  room  into" which  she  looked  was  low  but  not  very 
small,  and  obtained  from  two  cross  lights  a  strange  and 
unequal  illumination  ;  on  one  side  the  light  came  through 
the  door  and  on  the  other  through  an  opening  in  the 
time-worn  ceiling  of  the  room,  which  had  never  before 
harbored  so  many  and  such  different  guests. 

All  attention  was  concentrated  on  a  group,  which  was 
clearly  lighted  up  from  the  doorway. 

On  the  dusty  floor  of  the  room  cowered  an  old  woman 
with  dark  weather-beaten  features  and  tangled  hair  that 
had  lomr  been  eray.    Her  black-blue  cotton  shirt  was 
opl  ovi  he  "  withered  bosom,  and  showed  a  blue  star 

tattooed  upon  it.  ,    „     ,      ,  » 

In  her  lap  she  supported  with  her  hands  the  head  of 
a  eirl,  whose  slender  body  lay  motionless  on  a  narrow 
ra^red  mat.    The  little  white  feet  of  the  sick  girl  almost 
touched  the  threshold.    Near  to  them  squatted  a  benevo- 
lent-looking old  man,  who  wore  only  a  coarse  apron  and 
sittine  all  in  a  heap,  bent  forward  now  and  then,  rubbing 
the  child's  feet  with  his  lean  hands  and  muttermg  a  few 
words  to  himself.  , 
The  sufferer  wore  nothing  but  a  short  petticoat  ot 
coarse  light-blue  stuff.    Her  face,  half  resting  on  the  lap 
of  the  old  woman,  was  graceful  and  regular  m  form,  her 
eyes  were  halfshut-like  those  of  a  child  whose  soul  is 
wrapped  in  some  sweet  dream-but  from  her  finely  chis- 
elled lips  there  escaped  from  time  to  time  a  painful, 
almost  convulsive  sob.  |        .  . 

An  abundance  of  soft,  but  disordered,  reddish  fair  hair, 


UARDA. 


in  which  clung  a  few  withered  flowers,  fell  over  the  lap 
of  the  old  woman  and  on  to  the  mat  where  she  lay.  Her 
cheeks  were  white  and  rosy-red,  and  when  the  young 
surgeon  Nebsecht — who  sat  by  her  side,  near  his  blind, 
stupid  companion,  the  litany-singer — lifted  the  ragged 
cloth  that  had  been  thrown  over  her  bosom,  which  had 
been  crushed  by  the  chariot  wheels,  or  when  she  lifted 
her  slender  arm,  it  was  seen  that  she  had  the  shining  fair- 
ness of  those  daughters  of  the  north  who  not  unfrequently 
came  to  Thebes,  among  the  king's  prisoners  of  war. 

The  two  physicians  sent  hither  from  the  House  of  Seti 
sat  on  the  left  side  of  the  maiden  on  a  little  carpet.  From 
time  to  time  one  or  the  other  laid  his  hand  over  the  heart 
of  the  sufferer,  or  listened  to  her  breathing,  or  opened 
his  case  of  medicaments,  and  moistened  the  compress  on 
her  wounded  breast  with  a  white  ointment. 

In  a  wide  circle  close  to  the  wall  of  the  room  crouched 
several  women,  young  and  old,  friends  of  the  paraschites, 
who  from  time  to  time  gave  expression  to  their  deep  sym- 
pathy by  a  piercing  cry  of  lamentation.  One  of  them 
rose  at  regular  intervals  to  fill  the  earthen  bowl  by  the 
side  of  the  physician  with  fresh  water.  As  often  as  the 
sudden  coolness  of  a  fresh  compress  on  her  hot  bosom 
startled  the  sick  girl,  she  opened  her  eyes,  but  always 
soon  to  close  them  again  for  a  longer  interval,  and  turned 
them  at  first  in  surprise,  and  then  with  gentle  reverence, 
toward  a  particular  spot. 

These  glances  had  hitherto  been  unobserved  by  him  to 
whom  they  were  directed. 

Leaning  against  the  wall  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the 
room,  dressed  in  his  long,  snow-white  priest's  robe,  Pen- 
taur  stood  awaiting  the  princess.  His  head-dress  touched 
the  ceiling,  and  the  narrow  streak  of  light,  which  fell 
through  the  opening  in  the  roof,  streamed  on  his  hand- 
some head  and  his  breast,  while  all  around  him  was  veiled 
in  twilight  gloom. 

Once  more  the  suffering  girl  looked  up,  and  her 
glance  this  time  met  the  eye  of  the  young  priest,  who  im- 
mediately raised  his  hand,  and  half-mechanically,  in  alow 
voice,  uttered  the  words  of  blessing  ;  and  then  once  more 
fixed  his  gaze  on  the  dingy  floor,  and  pursued  his  own 
reflections. 


UARDA. 


59 


Some  hours  since  he  had  come  hither,  obedient  to  the 
orders  of  Ameni,  to  impress  on  the  princess  that  she  had 
defiled  herself  by  touching  a  paraschites,  and  could  only  be 
cleansed  again  by  the  hand  of  the  priests. 

He  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  paraschites  most 
reluctantly,  and  the  thought  that  he,  of  all  men,  had  been 
selected  to  censure  a  deed  of  the  noblest  humanity,  and  to 
bring  her  who  had  done  it  to  judgment,  weighed  upon  him 
as  a  calamity. 

In  his  intercourse  with  his  friend  Nebsecht,  Pentaur 
had  thrown  off  many  fetters,  and  given  place  to  many 
thoughts  that  his  master  would  have  held  sinful  and  pre- 
sumptuous ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  acknowledged  the 
sanctity  of  the  old  institutions,  which  were  upheld  by  those 
whom  he  had  learned  to  regard  as  the  divinely  appointed 
guardians  of  the  spiritual  possessions  of  God's  people  ;  nor 
was  he  wholly  free  from  the  pride  of  caste  and  the  haugh- 
tiness which,  with  prudent  intent,  were  inculcated  in  the 
priests.  He  held  the  common  man,  who  put  forth  his 
strength  to  win  a  maintenance  for  his  belongings  by  honest 
bodily  labor— the  merchant— the  artisan— the  peasant,  nay 
even  the  warrior,  as  far  beneath  the  goodly  brotherhood 
who  strove  for  only  spiritual  ends  ;  and  most  of  all  he 
scorned  the  idler,  given  up  to  sensual  enjoyments. 

He  held  him  unclean  who  had  been  branded  by  the  law  ; 
and  how  should  it  have  been  otherwise  ? 

These  people,  who  at  the  embalming  of  the  dead  opened 
the  body  of  the  deceased,  had  become  despised  for  their 
office  of  mutilating  the  sacred  temple  of  the  soul ;  but  no 
paraschites  chose  his  calling  of  his  own  free  will.  It  was 
handed  down  from  father  to  son,  and  he  who  was  born  a 
paraschites— so  he  was  taught — had  to  expiate  an  old  guilt 
with  which  his  soul  had  long  ago  burdened  itself  in  a 
former  existence,  within  another  body,  and  which  had  de- 
prived it  of  absolution  in  the  nether-world.  It  had  passed 
through  various  animal  forms  ;  and  now  began  a  new 
human  course  in  the  body  of  a  paraschites,  once  more  to 
stand  after  death  in  the  presence  of  the  judges  ofthe  under- 
world. 

Pentaur  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  man  he  de- 
spised with  aversion  ;  the  man  himself,  sitting  at  the  feet 
of  the  suffering  girl,  had  exclaimed  as  he  saw  the  priest 
approaching  the  hovel ; 


6o 


UARDA. 


"  Yet  another  white  robe  !  Does  misfortune  cleanse  the 
unclean  ? " 

Pentaur  had  not  answered  the  old  man,  who  on  his  part 
took  no  further  notice  of  him,  while  he  rubbed  the  girl's 
feet  by  order  of  the  leech,  and  his  hands  impelled  by  tender 
anxiety  untiringly  continued  the  same  movement,  as  the 
water-wheel  in  the  Nile  keeps  up  without  intermission  its 
steady  motion  in  the  stream. 

4 '  Does  misfortune  cleanse  the  unclean  ?  "  Pentaur  asked 
himself.  ' '  Does  it  indeed  possess  a  purifying  efficacy,  and 
is  it  possible  that  the  gods,  who  gave  to  fire  the  power  of 
refining  metals  and  to  the  winds  power  to  sweep  the  clouds 
from  the  sky,  should  desire  that  a  man  made  in  their  own 
image — that  a  man  should  be  tainted  from  his  birth  to  his 
death  with  an  indelible  stain  ?  " 

He  looked  at  the  face  of  the  paraschites,  and  it  seemed 
to  him  to  resemble  that  of  his  father. 

This  startled  him  ! 

And  when  he  noticed  how  the  woman,  in  whose  lap  the 
girl's  head  was  resting,  bent  over  the  injured  bosom  of  the 
child  to  catch  her  breathing,  which  she  feared  had  come 
to  a  standstill — with  the  anguish  of  a  dove  that  is  struck 
down  by  a  hawk — he  remembered  a  moment  in  his  own 
childhood  when  he  had  lain  trembling  with  fever  on  his 
little  bed.  What  then  had  happened  to  him,  or  had  gone 
on  around  him,  he  had  long  forgotten,  but  one  image  was 
deeply  imprinted  on  his  soul,  that  of  the  face  of  his  mother 
bending  over  him  in  deadly  anguish,  but  who  had  gazed 
on  her  sick  boy  not  more  tenderly,  or  more  anxiously, 
than  this  despised  woman  on  her  suffering  child. 

' 'There. is  only  one  utterly  unselfish,  utterly  pure  and 
utterly  divine  love,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  and  that  is  the 
love  of  Isis  for  Horus — the  love  of  a  mother  for  her  child. 
If  these  people  were  indeed  so  foul  as  to  defile  everything 
they  touch,  how  would  this  pure,  this  tender,  holy  impulse 
show  itself  even  in  them  in  all  its  beauty  and  perfection." 

"  Still,"  he  continued,  "the  Celestials  have  implanted 
maternal  love  in  the  breast  of  the  lioness,  of  the  typhonic 
river-horse  of  the  Nile." 

He  looked  compassionately  at  the  wife  of  the  paras- 
chites. 

He  saw  her  dark  face  as  she  turned  it  away  from  the 


UARDA.  6 1 

sick  girl  She  had  felt  her  breathe,  and  a  smile  of  hap- 
piness lighted  up  her  old  features  ;  she  nodded  first  to  the 
surgeon,  and  then  with  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  to  her  hus- 
band who,  while  he  did  not  cease  the  movement  of  his 
left  hand,  held  up  his  right  hand  in  prayer  to  heaven,  and 
his  wife  did  the  same. 

It  seemed  to  Pentaur  that  he  could  see  the  souls  of  these 
two  floating  above  the  youthful  creature  in  holy  union  as 
they  joined  their  hands,  and  again  he  thought  of  his  par- 
ents house,  of  the  hour  when  his  sweet  only  sister  died. 
His  mother  had  thrown  herself  weeping  on  the  pale  form 
but  his  father  had  stamped  his  foot  and  had  thrown  back 
his  head,  sobbing  and  striking  his  forehead  with  his  fist. 

"  How  piously  submissive  and  thankful  are  these  un- 
clean ones  !  "  thought  Pentaur,  and  repugnance  for  the  old 
laws  began  to  take  root  in  his  heart.  ' '  Maternal  love  may 
exist  in  the  hyena,  but  to  seek  and  find  God  pertains  only 
to  man,  who  has  a  noble  aim.  Up  to  the  limits  of  eternity 
—and  God  is  eternal— thought  is  denied  to  animals  ;  they 
cannot  even  smile.  Even  men  cannot  smile  at  first,  for 
only  physical  life— an  animal  soul— dwells  in  them  ;  but 
soon  a  share  of  the  world's  soul— beaming  intelligence- 
works  within  them,  and  first  shows  itself  in  the  smile  of 
a  child  which  is  as  pure  as  the  light  and  the  truth  from 
which  it  comes.  The  child  of  the  paraschites  smiles  like 
any  other  creature  born  of  woman,  but  how  few  aged  men 
there  are,  even  among  the  initiated,  who  can  smile  as  in- 
nocently and  brightly  as  this  woman  who  has  grown  gray 
under  open  ill-treatment/' 

Deep  sympathy  began  to  fill  his  heart,  and  he  knelt  down 
by  the  side  of  the  poor  child,  raised  her  arm  and  prayed 
fervently  to  that  One,  who  had  created  the  heavens  and 
who  rules  the  world— to  that  One,  whom  the  mysteries  of 
faith  forbade  him  to  name  ;  and  not  to  the  innumerable 
gods,  whom  the  people  worshiped,  and  who  to  him  were 
nothing  but  incarnations  of  the  attributes  of  the  One  and 
only  God  of  the  initiated— of  whom  he  was  one— who  was 
thus  brought  down  to  the  comprehension  of  the  laity. 

He  raised  his  soul  to  God  in  passionate  emotion  ;  but  he 
prayed,  not  for  the  child  before  him  and  for  her  recovery, 
but  rather  for  the  whole  despised  race,  and  for  its  release 
from  the  old  ban  for  the  enlightenment  of  his  own  soul, 


62 


UARDA. 


imprisoned  in  doubts,  and  for  strength  to  fulfill  his  hard 

task  with  discretion. 

The  gaze  of  the  sufferer  followed  him  as  he  took  up  his 
former  position. 

The  prayer  had  refreshed  his  soul  and  restored  him  to 
cheerfulness  of  spirit.  He  began  to  reflect  what  in  the 
princess'  conduct  he  would  have  to  comment  on. 

He  had  not  met  Bent-Anat  for  the  first  time  yesterday  ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  had  frequently  seen  her  in  holiday 
processions,  and  at  the  high  festivals  in  the  Necropolis, 
and  like  all  his  young  companions  had  admired  her  proud 
beauty — admired  it  as  the  distant  light  of  the  stars,  or  the 
evening-glow  on  the  horizon. 

Now  he  must  approach  this  lady  with  words  of  reproof. 

He  pictured  to  himself  the  moment  when  he  must  ad- 
vance to  meet  her,  and  could  not  help  thinking  of  his  little 
tutor  Chufu,  above  whom  he  towered  by  two  heads  while 
he  was-  still  a  boy,  and  who  used  to  call  up  his  admonitions 
to  him  from  below.  It  was  true,  he  himself  was  tall  and 
slim,  but  he  felt  as  if  to-day  he  were  to  play  the  part 
toward  Bent-Anat  of  the  much-laughed-at  little  tutor.  ^ 

His  sense  of  the  comic  was  touched,  and  asserted  itself 
at  this  serious  moment,  and  with  such  melancholy  sur- 
roundings. Life  is  rich  in  contrasts,  and  a  susceptible 
and  highly-strung  human  soul  would  break  down  like  a 
bridge  under  the  measured  tread  of  soldiers,  if  it  were 
allowed  to  let  the  burden  of  the  heaviest  thoughts  and 
strongest  feelings  work  upon  it  in  undisturbed  monotony  ; 
but  just  as  in  music  every  key-note  has  its  harmonies,  so 
when  we  cause  one  chord  of  our  heart  to  vibrate  for  long, 
all  sorts  of  strange  notes  respond  and  clang,  often  those 
which  we  least  expect. 

Pentaurs  glance  flew  round  the  one  low,  overfilled  room 
of  the  paraschites'  hut,  and  like  a  lightning  flash  the 
thought,  "  How  will  the  princess  and  her  train  find  room 
here  ?  "  flew  through  his  mind. 

His  fancy  was  lively,  and  vividly  brought  before  him 
how  the  daughter  of  the  Pharaoh  with  a  crown  on  her  proud 
head  would  bustle  into  the  silent  chamber,  how  the  chap- 
tering courtiers  would  follow  her,  and  how  the  women  bv 
the  walls,  the  physicians  by  the  side  of  the  sick  girl,  the 
sleek  white  cat  from  the  chest  where  she  sat,  would  rise 


UARDA. 


63 


and  throng;  round  her.  There  must  be  frightful  confu- 
sion. Then  he  imagined  how  the  smart  lords  and  ladies 
would  keep  themselves  far  from  the  unclean,  hold  their 
slender  hands  over  their  mouths  and  noses,  and  suggest  to 
the  old  folks  how  they  ought  to  behave  to  the  princess 
who  condescended  to  bless  them  with  her  presence.  ^  The 
old  woman  must  lay  down  the  head  that  rested  in  her 
bosom,  the  paraschites  must  drop  the  feet  he  so  anxiously 
rubbed,  on  the  floor,  to  rise  and  kiss  the  dust  before  Bent- 
Anat.  Whereupon— the  " minds  eye"  of  the  young 
priest  seemed  to  see  it  all— the  courtiers  fled  before  him, 
pushing  each  other,  and  all  crowded  together  into  a  corner, 
and  at  last  the  princess  threw  a  few  silver  or  gold  rings 
into  the  laps  of  the  father  and  mother,  and  perhaps  to  the 
girl  too,  and  he  seemed  to  hear  the  courtiers  all  cry  out  : 
' '  Hail  to  the  gracious  daughter  of  the  Sun  !  " — to  hear  the 
joyful  exclamations  of  the  crowd  of  women— to  see  the 
gorgeous  apparition  leave  the  hut  of  the  despised  people, 
and  then  to  see,  instead  of  the  lovely  sick  child  who  still 
breathed  audibly,  a  silent  corpse  on  the  crumpled  mat, 
and  in  the  place  of  the  two  tender  nurses  at  her  head  and 
feet,  two  heart-broken,  loud-lamenting  wretches. 

Pentaur  s  hot  spirit  was  full  of  wrath.  As  soon  as  the 
noisy  cortege  appeared  actually  in  sight  he  would  place 
himself  in  the  doorway,  forbid  the  princess  to  enter,  and 
receive  her  with  strong  words. 

She  could  hardly  come  hither  out  of  human  kindness. 
" She  wants  variety,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  something 
new  at  court  ;  for  there  is  little  going  on  there  now  the 
king  tarries  with  the  troops  in  a  distant  country  ;  it  tickles 
the  vanity  of  the  great  to  find  themselves  once  in  a  while 
in  contact  with  the  small,  and  it  is  well  to  have  your  good- 
ness of  heart  spoken  of  by  the  people.  If  a  little  misfor- 
tune opportunely  happens,  it  is  not  worth  the  trouble  to 
inquire  whether  the  form  of  our  benevolence  does  more 
good  or  mischief  to  such  wretched  people." 

He  ground  his  teeth  angrily,  and  thought  no  more  of 
the  defilement  which  might  threaten  Bent-Anat  from  the 
paraschites,  but  exclusively,  on  the  contrary,  on  the  initia- 
tion which  she  might  derive  from  the  holy  feelings  that 
were  astir  in  this  silent  room. 

Excited  as  he  was  to  fanaticism,  his  condemning  lips 
could  not  fail  to  find  vigorous  and  impressive  words. 


64 


UARDA. 


He  stood  drawn  to  his  full  height  and  drawing  h;,s 
breath  deeply,  like  a  spirit  of  light  who  holds  his  weapon 
raised  to  annihilate  a  demon  of  darkness,  and  he  looked 
out  into  the  valley  to  perceive  from  afar  the  cry  of  the 
runners,  and  the  rattle  of  the  wheels  of  the  gay  train  he 
expected. 

And  he  saw  the  doorway  darkened  by  a  lowly,  bending 
figure,  who,  with  folded  arms,  glided  into  the  room  and 
sank  down  silently  by  the  side  of  the  sick  girl.  The  phy- 
sicians and  the  old  people  moved  as  if  to  rise  ;  but  she 
signed  to  them  without  opening  her  lips,  and  with  moist, 
expressive  eyes,  to  keep  their  places  ;  she  looked  long  and 
lovingly  in  the  face  of  the  wounded  girl,  stroked  her  white 
arm,  and  turning  to  the  old  woman  softly  whispered  to 
her  : 

"  How  pretty  she  is  ! " 

The  paraschites'  wife  nodded  assent,  and  the  girl  smiled 
and  moved  her  lips  as  though  she  had  caught  the  words 
and  wished  to  speak. 

Bent-Anat  took  a  rose  from  her  hair  and  laid  it  on  her 
bosom. 

The  paraschites,  who  had  not  taken  his  hands  from  the 
feet  of  the  sick  child,  but  who  had  followed  every  move- 
ment of  the  princess,  now  whispered,  4 'May  Hathor 
requite  thee,  who  gave  thee  thy  beauty." 

The  princess  turned  to  him  and  said,  "  Forgive  the 
sorrow  I  have  caused  you." 

The  old  man  stood  up,  letting  the  feet  of  the,  sick  girl 
fall,  and  asked  in  a  clear,  loud  voice  : 

"Art  thou  Bent-Anat?" 

"Yes,  I  am,"  replied  the  princess,  bowing  her  head  low, 
and  in  so  gentle  a  voice  that  it  seemed  as  though  she  were 
ashamed  of  her  proud  name. 

The  eyes  of  the  old  man  flashed.  Then  he  said  softly 
but  decisively  : 

"  Leave  my  hut  then,  it  will  defile  thee." 

"Not  till  you  have  forgiven  me  for  that  which  I  did 
unintentionally." 

"Unintentionally!  I  believe  thee,"  replied  the  para 
schites.     "The  hoofs  of  thy  horse  became  unclean  when 

they  trod  on  this  white  breast.    Look  here  "  and  he 

lifted  the  cloth  from  the  girl's  bosom,  and  showed  her  the 


UARDA. 


65 


deep  red  wound.  "  Look  here — here  is  the  first  rose  you 
laid  on  my  grandchild's  bosom,  and  the  second — there  it 
goes/' 

The  paraschites  raised  his  arm  to  fling  the  flower 
through  the  door  of  his  hut.  But  Pentaur  had  approached 
him,  and  with  a  grasp  of  iron  held  the  old  man's  hand. 

"  Stay,"  he  cried,  in  an  eager  tone,  moderated,  however, 
for  the  sake  of  the  sick  girl. "  "The  third  rose,  which  this 
noble  hand  has  offered  you,  your  sick  heart  and  silly  head 
have  not  even  perceived.  And  yet  you  must  know  it  if 
only  from  your  need,  your  longing  for  it.  The  fair  blossom 
of  pure  benevolence  is  laid  on  your  child's  heart,  and  at 
your  very  feet  by  this  proud  princess.  Not  with  gold,  but 
with  humility.  And  whoever  the  daughter  of  Rameses 
approaches  as  her  equal,  bows  before  her  even  if  he  were 
the  first  prince  in  the  land  of  Egypt.  Indeed,  the  gods 
shall  not  forget  this  deed  of  Bent-Anat.  And  you — for- 
give, if  you  desire  to  be  forgiven  that  guilt  which  you  bear 
as  an  inheritance  from  your  fathers,  and  for  your  own 
sins." 

The  paraschites  bowed  his  head  at  these  words,  and 
v/hen  he  raised  it  the  anger  had  vanished  from  his  well- 
cut  features.  He  rubbed  his  wrist,  which  had  been 
squeezed  by  Pentaur's  iron  fingers,  and  said  in  a  tone 
which  betrayed  all  the  bitterness  of  his  feelings : 

"Thy  hand  is  hard,  priest,  and  thy  words  hit  like  the 
strokes  of  a  hammer.  This  fair  lady  is  good  and  loving, 
and  I  know  that  she  did  not  drive  her  horse  intentionally 
over  this  poor  girl,  who  is  my  grandchild  and  not  my 
daughter.  If  she  were  thy  wife  or  the  wife  of  the  leech 
there,  or  the  child  of  the  poor  woman  yonder,  who  sup- 
ports life  by  collecting  the  feet  and  feathers  of  the  fowls 
that  are  slaughtered  for  sacrifice,  I  would  not  only  for- 
give her,  but  console  her  for  having  made  herself  like  to 
me  ;  fate  would  have  made  her  a  murderess  without  any 
fault  of  her  own,  just  as  it  stamped  me  as  unclean  while 
I  was  still  at  my  mother's  breast.  Ay — I  would  comfort 
her  ;  and  yet  I  am  not  very  sensitive.  Ye  holy  three  of 
Thebes  !  how  should  I  be  ?  Great  and  small  get  out  of 
my  way  that  I  may  not  touch  them,  and  every  day  when 
I  have  done  what  it  is  my  business  to  do  they  throw  stones 
at  me.    The  fulfillment  of  duty — which  brings  a  living  to 

5 


60 


UARDA. 


other  men,  which  makes  their  happiness,  and  at  the  same 
time  earns  them  honor,  brings  me  every  day  fresh  disgrace 
and  painful  sores.  But  I  complain  to  no  man,  and  must 
forgive— forgive— forgive,  till  at  last  all  that  men  do  to 
me  seems  quite  natural  and  unavoidable,  and  I  take  it  all 
like  the  scorching  of  the  sun  in  summer,  and  the  dust 
that  the  west  wind  blows  into  my  face.  It  does  not  make 
me  happy,  but  what  can  I  do  ?    I  forgive  all  " 

The  voice  of  the  paraschites  had  softened,  and  Bent- 
Anat,  who  looked  down  on  him  with  emotion,  interrupted 
him,  exclaiming  with  deep  feeling  : 

"And  so  you  will  forgive  me? — poor  man  !  " 

The  old  man  looked  steadily,  not  at  her,  but  at  Pen- 
taur,  while  he  replied  :  11  Poor  man  !  ay,  truly,  poor  man. 
You  have  driven  me  out  of  the  world  in  which  you  live, 
and  so  I  made  a  world  for  myself  in  this  hut.  I  do  not 
belong  to  you,  and  if  I  forget  it  you  drive  me  out  as  an 
intruder — nay,  as  a  wolf,  who  breaks  into  your  fold;  but 
you  belong  just  as  little  to  me,  only  when  you  play  the 
wolf  and  fall  upon  me,  I  must  bear  it  !  " 

"The  princess  came  to  your  hut  as  a  suppliant,  and 
with  the  wish  of  doing  you  some  good,"  said  Pentaur. 

a  7  tne  avenging  gods  reckon  it  to  her,  when  they 
visit  on  her  the  crimes  of  her  father  against  me  !  Perhaps 
it  may  bring  me  to  prison,  but  it  must  come  out.  Seven 
sons  were  mine,  and  Rameses  took  them  all  from  me  and 
sent  them  to  death  ;  the  child  of  the  youngest,  this  girl, 
the  light  of  my  eyes,  his  daughter  has  brought  to  her 
death.  Three  of  my  boys  the  king  left  to  die  of  thirst  by 
me  Tenat,*  which  is  to  join  the  Nile  to  the  Red  Sea,  three 
were  killed  by  the  Ethiopians,  and  the  last,  the  star  of 
my  hopes,  by  this  time  is  eaten  by  the  hyenas  of  the 
north." 

At  these  words  the  old  woman,  in  wnose  lap  the  head 
of  the  girl  rested,  broke  out  into  a  loud  cry,  in  which  she 
was  joined  by  all  the  other  women. 

The  sufferer  started  up  frightened,  and  opened  her  eyes. 

*  Literally  the  "cutting"  which,  under  Seti  I,  the  father  of  Rameses, 
was  the  first  "  Suez  canal  : "  a  representation  of  it  is  found  on  the  north- 
ern outer  wall  of  the  temple  of  Karnack.  It  followed  nearly  the  same 
direction  as  the  South-water  canal  of  Lesseps,  and  fertilized  the  land  of 
Goshen. 


UARDA. 


67 


"For  whom  are  you  wailing? "  she  asked,  feebly. 

"  For  your  poor  father,"  said  the  old  woman. 

The  girl  smiled  like  a  child  who  detects  some  well- 
meant  deceit,  and  said  : 

"  Was  not  my  father  here,  with  you?  He  is  here,  in 
Thebes,  and  looked  at  me,  and  kissed  me,  and  said  that 
he  is  bringing  home  plunder,  "and  that  a  good  time  is  com- 
ing for  you.  The  gold  ring  that  he  gave  me  I  was  fasten- 
ing into  my  dress,  when  the  chariot  passed  over  me.  I 
was  just  pulling  the  knots,  when  all  grew  black  before 
my  eyes,  and  I  saw  and  heard  nothing  more.  Undo  it, 
grandmother,  the  ring  is  for  you  ;  I  meant  to  bring  it  to 
you.  You  must  buy  a  beast  for  sacrifice  with  it,  and  wine 
for  grandfather,  and  eye-salve  for  yourself,  and  sticks  of 
mastic,  which  you  have  so  long  had  to  do  without." 

The  paraschites  seemed  to  drink  these  words  from  the 
mouth  of  his  grandchild.  Again  he  lifted  his  hand  in 
prayer,  again  Pentaur  observed  that  his  glance  met  that  of 
his  wife,  and  a  large,  warm  tear  fell  from  his  old  eyes  on 
to  his  callous  hand.  Then  he  sunk  down,  for  he  thought 
the  sick  child  was  deluded  by  a  dream.  But  there  were 
the  knots  in  her  dress. 

With  a  trembling  hand  he  untied  them,  and  a  gold  ring 
rolled  out  on  the  floor. 

Bent-Anat  picked  it  up  and  gave  it  to  the  paraschites. 

"  I  came  here  in  a  lucky  hour,"  she  said,  ' '  for  you  have 
recovered  your  son  and  your  child  will  live. " 

"  She  will  live,"  repeated  the  surgeon,  who  had  re- 
mained a  silent  witness  of  all  that  had  occurred. 

"  She  will  stay  with  us,"  murmured  the  old  man,  and 
then  said,  as  he  approached  the  princess  on  his  knees,  and 
looked  up  at  her  beseechingly  with  tearful  eyes  : 

"  Pardon  me  as  I  pardon  thee  ;  and  if  a  pious  wish  may 
not  turn  to  a  curse  from  the  lips  of  the  unclean,  let  me 
bless  thee." 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Bent-Anat,  toward  whom  the  old 
man  raised  his  hand  in  blessing. 

Then  she  turned  to  Nebsecht  and  ordered  him  to  take 
anxious  care  of  the  sick  girl  ;  she  bent  over  her,  kissed  her 
forehead,  laid  her  gold  bracelet  by  her  side,  and  signing  to 
Pentmir,  left  the  hut  with  him, 


UARDA. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

During  the  occurrence  we  have  described,  the  king's 
pioneer  and  the  young  wife*of  Mena  were  obliged  to  wait 
for  the  princess. 

The  sun  stood  in  the  meridian  when  Bent-Anat  had  gone 
into  the  hovel  of  the  paraschites. 

The  bare  limestone  rocks  on  each  side  of  the  valley  and 
the  sandy  soil  between  shone  with  a  vivid  whiteness  that 
hurt  the  eyes  ;  not  a  hand's  breadth  of  shade  was  any- 
where to  be  seen,  and  the  fan-bearers  of  the  two,  who  were 
waiting  there,  had,  by  command  of  the  princess,  stayed 
behind  with  the  chariot  and  litters. 

For  a  time  they  stood  silently  near  each  other  ;  then  the 
fair  Nefert  said,  wearily  closing  her  almond-shaped  eyes  : 

"  How  long  Bent-Anat  stays  in  the  hut  of  the  unclean  ! 
I  am  perishing  here.    What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Stay  !  "  said  Paaker,  turning  his  back  on  the  lady  ;  and 
mounting  a  block  of  stone  by  the  side  of  the  gorge,  he 
cast  a  practiced  glance  all  around,  and  returned  to  Nefert  : 
"  I  have  found  a  shady  spot,"  he  said, "  out  there." 

Mena's  wife  followed  with  her  eyes  the  indication  of  his 
hand  and  shook  her  head.  The  gold  ornaments  on  her 
head-dress  rattled  gently  as  she  did  so,  and  a  cold  shiver 
passed  over  her  slim  body  in  spite  of  the  midday  heat. 

"Sechet*  is  raging  in  the  sky,"  said  Paaker.  "  Let  us 
avail  ourselves  of  the  shady  spot,  small  though  it  be.  At 
this  hour  of  the  day  many  are  struck  with  sickness." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Nefert,  covering  her  neck  with  her 
hand.  Then  she  went  toward  two  blocks  of  stone  which 
leaned  against  each  other,  and  between  them  afforded  the 
spot  of  shade,  not  many  feet  wide,  which  Paaker  had 
pointed  out  as  a  shelter  from  the  sun. 

*  A  goddess  with  the  head  of  a  lioness  or  a  cat,  over  which  the  Sun 
disk  is  usually  found.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Ra,  and  in  the  form  of 
the  Uraeus  on  her  father's  crown  personified  the  murdeous  heat  of  the 
star  of  clay.  She  incites  man  to  the  hot  and  wild  passion  of  love,  and  as 
a  cat  or  lioness  tears  burning  wounds  in  the  limbs  of  the  guilty  in  the 
nether-world;  drunkenness  and  pleasure  are  her  gifts.  She  was  also 
named  Bast  and  Astarte  after  her  sister-divinity  among  the  Phoenicians. 


UARDA. 


69 


Paaker  preceded  her,  and  rolled  a  flat  piece  of  limestone, 
inlaid  by  nature  with  nodules  of  flint,  under  the  stone 
pavilion,  crushed  a  few  scorpions  which  had  taken  refuge 
there,  spread  his  head-cloth  over  the  hard  seat,  and  said, 
'  *  Here  you  are  sheltered. " 

Nefert  sank  down  on  the  stone  and  watched  the  Mohar, 
who  slowly  and  silently  paced  backward  and  forward  in 
front  of  her.  This  incessant  to  and  fro  of  her  companion 
at  last  became  unendurable  to  her  sensitive  and  irritated 
nerves,  and  suddenly  raising  her  head  from  her  hand,  on 
which  she  had  rested  it,  she  exclaimed  : 

' < Pray  stand  still." 

The  pioneer  obeyed  instantly,  and  looked,  as  he  stood 
with  his  back  to  her,  toward  the  hovel  of  the  paraschites. 
After  a  short  time  Nefert  said  : 
"Say  something  to  me  !  " 

The  Mohar  turned  his  face  full  toward  her,  and  she  was 
frightened  at  the  wild  fire  that  glowed  in  the  glance  with 
which  he  gazed  at  her. 

Nefert's  eyes  fell,  and  Paaker,  saying  : 

"  I  would  rather  remain  silent,"  recommenced  his  walk, 
till  Nefert  called  to  him  again  and  said  : 

"I  know  you  are  angry  with  me;  but  I  was  but  a 
child  when  I  was  betrothed  to  you.  I  liked  -  ou  too,  and 
when  in  our  games  your  mother  called  me  your  little  wife, 
I  was  really  glad,  and  used  to  think  how  fine  it  would  be 
when  I  might  call  all  your  possessions  mine,  the  house 
you  would  have  so  splendidly  restored  for  me  after  your 
father's  death,  the  noble  gardens,  the  fine  horses  in  their 
stables,  and  all  the  male  and  female  slaves." 

Paaker  laughed,  but  the  laugh  sounded  so  forced  and 
scornful  that  it  cut  Nefert  to  the  heart,  and  she  went  on, 
as  if  begging  for  indulgence  : 

"  It  was  said  that  you  were  angry  with  us  ;  and  now 
you  will  take  my  words  as  if  I  had  cared  only  for  your 
wealth  ;  but  I  said  I  liked  you.  Do  you  no  longer  re- 
member how  I  cried  with  you  over  your  tales  of  the  bad 
boys  in  the  school,  and  over  your  father's  severity  ?  Then 
my  uncle  died— then  you  went  to  Asia."  „ 

"And  you,"  interrupted  Paaker,  hardly  and  dryly,  "you 
broke  your  betrothal  vows,  and  became  the  wife  of  the 
charioteer  Mena.    I  know  it  all ;  of  what  use  is  talking  ! 


7° 


UARDA. 


"  Because  it  grieves  me  that  you  should  be  angry,  and 
your  good  mother  avoid  our  house.  If  only  you  could 
know  what  it  is  when  love  seizes  one,  and  one  can  no 
longer  even  think  alone,  but  only  near,  and  with,  and  in 
the  very  arms  of  another  ;  when  one's  beating  heartthrobs 
in  one's  very  temples,  and  even  in  one's  dreams  one  sees 
nothing — but  one  only." 

"  And  do  I  not  know  it  ?  "  cried  Paaker,' placing  himself 
close  before  her  with  his  arms  crossed.  "Do  I  not  know 
it  ?  and  you  it  was  who  taught  me  to  know  it.  When  I 
thought  of  you,  not  blood,  but  burning  fire,  coursed  in 
my  veins,  and  now  you  have  filled  them  with  poison  ; 
and  here  in  this  breast,  in  which  your  image  dwelt,  as 
lovely  as  that  of  Hathor  in  her  holy  of  holies  all  is  like 
that  sea  in  Syria  which  is  called  the  Dead  Sea,  in  which 
everything  that  tries  to  live  presently  dies  and  perishes." 

Paaker's  eyes  rolled  as  he  spoke,  and  his  voice  sounded 
hoarsely  as  he  went  on. 

"But  Men  a  was  near  to  the  king — nearer  than  I,  anfc 
your  mother  " 

"My  mother!"  Nefert  interrupted  the  angry  Mohar. 
"  My  mother  did  not  choose  my  husband.  I  saw  him 
driving  the  chariot,  and  to  me  he  resembled  the  Sun-god, 
and  he  observed  me,  and  looked  at  me,  and  his  glance 
pierced  deep  into  my  heart  like  a  spear  ;  and  when,  at  the 
festival  of  the  king's  birthday,  he  spoke  to  me,  it  was  just 
as  if  Hathor  had  thrown  round  me  a  web  of  sweet,  sound- 
ing sunbeams.  And  it  was  the  same  with  Mena  ;  he  him- 
self has  told  me  so  since  I  have  been  his  wife.  For  your 
sake  my  mother  rejected  his  suit,  but  I  grew  pale  and  dull 
with  longing  for  him,  and  he  lost  his  bright  spirit,  and 
was  so  melancholy  that  the  king  remarked  it,  and  asked 
what  weighed  on  his  heart — for  Rameses  loves  him  as  his 
own  son.  Then  Mena  confessed  to  the  Pharaoh  that  it 
was  love  that  dimmed  his  eye  and  weakened  his  strong 
hand ;  and  then  the  king  himself  courted  me  for  his  faith- 
ful servant,  and  my  mother  gave  way,  and  we  were  made 
man  and  wife,  and  all  the  joys  of  the  justified  in  the  fields 
Of  Aalu  *  are  shallow  and  feeble  by  the  side  of  the  bliss 

*  The  fields  of  the  blest,  which  were  opened  to  glorified  souls.  In  the 
Book  of  the  Dead  it  is  shown  that  in  them  men  linger,  and  sow  and  reap 
by  cool  waters. 


UARDA. 


7* 


which  we  two  have  known — not  like  mortal  men,  but  like 

the  celestial  gods. " 

Up  to  this  point  Nefert  had  fixed  her  large  eyes  on  the 
sky,  like  a  glorified  soul ;  but  now  her  gaze  fell,  and  she 
said  softly  : 

"  But  the  Cheta  *  disturbed  our  happiness,  for  the  king 
took  Mena  with  him  to  the  war.  Fifteen  times  did  the 
moon  rise  upon  our  happiness,  and  then  " 

"And  then  the  gods  heard  my  prayer,  and  accepted  my 
offerings/'  said  Paaker,  with  a  trembling  voice,  "  and  tore 
the  robber  of  my  joys  from  you,  and  scorched  your  heart 
and  his  with  desire.  Do  you  think  you  can  tell  me  any- 
thing I  do  not  know  ?  Once  again  for  fifteen  days  was 
Mena  yours,  and  now  he  has  not  returned  again  from  the 
war  which  is  raging  hotly  in  Asia." 

"But  he  will  return,"  cried  the  young  wife. 

' '  Or  possibly  not, "  laughed  Paaker.  ' '  The  Cheta  carry 
sharp  weapons,  and  there  are  many  vultures  in  Lebanon, 
who  perhaps  at  this  hour  are  tearing  his  flesh  as  he  tore 
my  heart. " 

Nefert  rose  at  these  words,  her  sensitive  spirit  bruised 
as  with  stones  thrown  by  a  brutal  hand,  and  attempted 
to  leave  her  shady  refuge  to  follow  the  princess  into  the 
house  of  the  paraschites  ;  but  her  feet  refused  to  bear  her, 
and  she  sank  back  trembling  on  her  stone  seat.  She  tried 
to  find  words,  but  her  tongue  was  powerless.  Her  powers 
of  resistance  forsook  her  in  her  unutterable  and  soul-felt 
distress — heart-wrung,  forsaken  and  provoked. 

A  variety  of  painful  sensations  raised  a  hot,  vehement 
storm  in  her  bosom,  which  checked  her  breath,  and  at  last 
found  relief  in  a  passionate  and  convulsive  weeping  that 
shook  her  whole  body.  She  saw  nothing  more,  she  heard 
nothing  more,  she  only  shed  tears  and  felt  herself  miser- 
able. 

Paaker  stood  over  her  in  silence. 

There  are  trees  in  the  tropics  on  which  white  blossoms 
hang  close  by  the  withered  fruit ;  there  are  days  when  the 
pale  moon  shows  itself  near  the  clear  bright  sun  ;  and  it 

*  An  Aramaean  race,  according  to  Schrader's  excellent  judgment.  At 
the  time  of  our  story  the  peoples  of  western  Asia  had  allied  themselves 
to  them- 


UAkfaA. 


is  given  to  the  soul  of  man  to  feel  love  and  hatred  both 

at  the  same  time,  and  to  direct  both  to  the  same  end. 

Nefert's  tears  fell  as  dew,  her  sobs  as  manna  on  the  soul 
of  Paaker,  which  hungered  and  thirsted  for  revenge.  Her 
pain  was  joy  to  him,  and  yet  the  sight  of  her  beauty  filled 
him  with  passion  ;  his  gaze  lingered  spell-bound  on  her 
graceful  form  ;  he  would  have  given  all  the  bliss  of  Heaven 
once,  only  once,  to  hold  her  in  his  arms — once,  only  once, 
to  hear  a  word  of  love  from  her  lips. 

After  some  minutes  Nefert's  tears  grew  less  violent. 
With  a  weary,  almost  indifferent  gaze  she  looked  at  the 
Mohar,  still  standing  before  her,  and  said  in  a  soft  tone  of 
entreaty  : 

"My  tongue  is  parched,  fetch  me  a  little  water." 
"  The  princess  may  come  out  at  any  moment,"  replied 
Paaker. 

"But  I  am  fainting,"  said  Nefert,  and  began  again  to 
cry  gently. 

Paaker  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  went  further  into 
the  valley,  which  he  knew  as  well  as  his  father's  house  ; 
for  in  it  was  the  tomb  of  his  mother's  ancestors,  in  which 
as  a  boy  he  had  put  up  prayers  at  every  full  and  new  moon 
and  laid  gifts  on  the  altar. 

The  hut  of  the  paraschites  was  prohibited  to  him,  but  he 
knew  that  scarcely  a  hundred  paces  from  the  spot  where 
Nefert  was  sitting  lived  an  old  woman  of  evil  repute,  in 
whose  hole  in  the  rock  he  could  not  fail  to  find  a  drink  of 
water. 

He  hastened  forward,  half  intoxicated  with  all  he  had 
seen  and  felt  within  the  last  few  minutes. 

The  door,  which  at  night  closed  the  cave  against  the  in- 
trusions of  the  plunder-seeking  jackals,  was  wide  open 
and  the  old  woman  sat  outside  under  a  ragged  piece  of 
brown  sail-cloth,  fastened  at  one  end  to  the  rock  and  at 
the  other  to  two  posts  of  rough  wood.  She  was  sorting  a 
heap  of  dark  and  light-colored  roots,  which  lay  in  her  lap. 
Near  her  was  a  wheel,  which  turned  in  a  high  wooden 
fork.  A  wryneck  was  made  fast  to  it  by  a  little  chain, 
and  by  springing  from  spoke  to  spoke  kept  it  in  continual 
motion.  A  large  black  cat  crouched  beside  her,  and  smelt 
at  some  ravens'  and  owls'  heads,  from  which  the  eyes  had 
not  long  since  been  extn  ^fed 


UARDA. 


73 


Two  sparrow-hawks  sat  huddled  up  over  the  door  of  the 
cave,  out  of  which  came  the  sharp  odor  of  burning  juniper 
berries  ;  this  was  intended  to  render  the  various  emaiia* 
tions  rising  from  the  different  strange  substances,  which 
were  collected  and  preserved  there,  innocuous. 

As  Paaker  approached  the  cavern  the  old  woman  called 
out  to  some  one  within  : 

"  Is  the  wax  cooking  ?  " 

An  unintelligible  murmur  was  heard  in  answer. 

'  'Then  throw  in  the  apes  eyes,*  and  the  ibis-feathers, 
and  the  scraps  of  linen  with  the  black  signs  on  them. 
Stir  it  all  a  little ;  now  put  out  the  fire.  Take  the  jug 
and  fetch  some  water — make  haste,  here  comes  a  stranger/' 

A  sooty-black  negro  woman,  with  a  piece  of  torn  color- 
less stuff  hanging  round  her  hips,  set  a  large  clay  jar  on 
her  gray  woolly  matted  hair,  and  without  looking  at  him 
went  past  Paaker,  who  was  now  close  to  the  cave. 

The  old  woman,  a  tall  figure  bent  with  years,  with  a 
sharply-cut  and  wrinkled  face  that  might  once  have  been 
handsome,  made  her  preparations  for  receiving  the  visitor 
by  tying  a  gaudy  kerchief  over  her  head,  fastening  her 
blue  cotton  garment  round  her  throat,  and  flinging  a  fiber 
mat  over  the  birds'  heads. 

Paaker  called  out  to  her,  but  she  feigned  to  be  deaf 
and  not  to  hear  his  voice.  Only  when  he  stood  quite 
close  to  her  did  she  raise  her  shrewd,  twinkling  eyes  and 
cried  out : 

"  A  lucky  day  !  a  white  day  that  brings  a  noble  guest 
and  high  honor." 

"Get  up,"  commanded  Paaker,  not  giving  her  any 
greeting,  but  throwing  a  silver  ringf  among  the  roots  that 
lay  in  her  lap,  "  and  give  me  in  exchange  for  good  money 
some  water  in  a  clean  vessel." 

"Fine  pure  silver,"  said  the  old  woman,  while  she  held 
the  ring,  which  she  had  quickly  picked  out  from  the  roots, 
close  to  her  eyes  ;  "  it  is  too  much  for  mere  water,  and  too 
little  for  my  good  liquors." 

*The  sentences  and  mediums  employed  by  the  witches,  according  to 
papyrus-rolls  which  remain.  I  have  availed  myself  of  the  magic  papyrus 
of  Harris,  and  of  two  in  the  Berlin  collection,  one  of  which  is  in 
Greek. 

t  The  Egyptians  had  no  coins  before  Alexander  of  Ptolemais,  but 
used  metals  for  exchange,  usually  in  the  form  of  rings. 


7* 


UARDA. 


1 '  Don't  chatter,  hussy,  but  make  haste,"  cried  Paaker, 
taking  another  ring  from  his  money-bag  and  throwing  it 
into  her  lap. 

"Thou  hast  an  open  hand,"  said  the  old  woman,  speak- 
ing in  the  dialect  of  the  upper  classes  ;  "  many  doors  must 
be  open  to  thee,  for  money  is  a  pass-key  that  turns  any 
lock.  Wouldst  thou  have  water  for  thy  good  money? 
Shall  it  protect  thee  against  noxious  beasts  ?  Shall  it  help 
thee  to  reach  down  a  star?  Shall  it  guide  thee  to  secret 
paths  ?  It  is  thy  duty  to  lead  the  way.  Shall  it  make  heat 
cold,  or  cold  warm  ?  Shall  it  give  thee  the  power  of  read- 
ing hearts,  or  shall  it  beget  beautiful  dreams  ?  Wilt  thou 
drink  of  the  water  of  knowledge  and  see  whether  thy 
friend  or  thine  enemy— ha  !  if  thine  enemy  shall  die? 
Wouldst  thou  a  drink  to  strengthen  thy  memory?  Shall 
the  water  make  thee  invisible?  or  remove  the  sixth  toe 
from  thy  left  foot  ?  " 

"You  know  me?  "  asked  Paaker. 

"  How  should  I  ?  "  said  the  old  woman,  "  but  my  eyes 
are  sharp,  and  I  can  prepare  good  waters  for  great  and 
small." 

"Mere  babble  !  "  exclaimed  Paaker,  impatiently,  clutch- 
ing at  the  whip  in  his  girdle.  "  Make  haste,  for  the  lady 
for  whom  " 

"  Dost  thou  want  the  water  for  a  lady  ?  "  interrupted  the 
old  woman.  "  Who  would  have  thought  it?  Old  men 
certainly  ask  for  my  philters  much  oftener  than  young 
ones  ;  but  I  can  serve  thee,  I  can  serve  thee." 

With  these  words  the  old  woman  went  into  the  cave, 
and  soon  returned  with  a  thin  cylindrical  flask  of  alabaster 
in  her  hand. 

"This  is  the  drink,"  she  said,  giving  the  phial  to  Paaker. 
"Pour  half  into  water,  and  offer  it  to  the  lady.  If  it  does 
not  succeed  at  first  it  is  certain  the  second  time.  _  A  child 
may  drink  the  water  and  it  will  not  hurt  him,  or  if  an  old 
man  takes  it,  it  makes  him  gay.  Ah,  I  know  the  taste  of 
it !  "  and  she  moistened  her  lips  with  the  white  fluid. 
"  It  can  hurt  no  one,  but  I  will  take  no  more  of  it,  or  old 
Hekt  will  be  tormented  with  love  and  longing  for  thee  • 
and  that  would  ill  please  the  rich  young  lord,  ha  !  ha  ! 
If  the  drink  is  in  vain  I  am  paid  enough;  if  it  takes  effect 
thou  shalt  bring  me  three  more  gold  rings  ;  and  thou  wilt 
return,  I  know  it  well." 


UARDA. 


75 


Paaker  had  listened  motionless  to  the  old  woman,  and 
seized  the  flask  eagerly,  as  if  bidding  defiance  to  some  ad- 
versary ;  he  put  it  in  his  money-bag,  threw  a  few  more 
rings  at  the  feet  of  the  witch,  and  once  more  hastily  de- 
manded a  bowl  of  Nile  water. 

' '  Is  my  lord  in  such  a  hurry  ? "  muttered  the  old  woman, 
once  more  going  into  the  cave.  "  He  asks  if  I  know  him  ? 
him,  certainly  I  do  ;  but  the  darling?  who  can  it  be  here- 
abouts? perhaps  little  Uarda  at  the  paraschites  yonder. 
She  is  pretty  enough  ;  but  she  is  lying  on  a  mat,  run  over 
and  dying.  We  must  see  what  my  lord  means.  He 
would  have  pleased  me  well  enough,  if  I  were  young  ;  but 
he  will  reach  the  goal,  for  he  is  resolute  and  spares  no 
one. " 

While  she  muttered  these  and  similar  words,  she  filled  a 
graceful  cup  of  glazed  earthenware  with  filtered  Nile 
water  which  she  poured  out  of  a  large  porous  clay  jar, 
and  laid  a  laurel  leaf,  on  which  was  scratched  two  hearts 
linked  together  by  seven  strokes,  on  the  surface  of  the 
limpid  fluid.    Then  she  stepped  out  into  the  air  again. 

As  Paaker  took  the  vessel  from  her  hand,  and  looked  at 
the  laurel  leaf,  she  said  : 

' 1  This  indeed  binds  hearts  ;  three  is  the  husband,  four 
is  the  wife,  seven  is  the  indivisible.  Chaach,  chachach, 
charcharachacha."  * 

The  old  woman  sang  this  spell  not  without  skill ;  but 
the  Mohar  appeared  not  to  listen  to  her  jargon.  He  de- 
scended carefully  into  the  valley,  and  directed  his  steps 
to  the  resting-place  of  the  wife  of  Mena. 

By  the  side  of  a  rock,  which  hid  him  from  Nefert,  he 
paused,  set  the  cup  on  aflat  block  of  stone,  and  drew  the 
flask  with  the  philter  out  of  his  girdle. 

His  fingers  trembled,  but  a  thousand  voices  within 
seemed  to  surge  up  and  cry  : 

"  Take  it !  do  it  !  put  in  the  drink  !    Now  or  never  !" 

He  felt  like  a  solitary  traveler  who  finds  on  his  road  the 
last  will  of  a  relation  whose  possessions  he  had  hoped  for, 
but  which  disinherits  him.  Shall  he  surrender  it  to  the 
judge,  or  shall  he  destroy  it? 

Paaker  was  not  merely  outwardly  devout ;  hitherto  he 
had  in  everything  intended  to  act  according  to  the  pre- 
*  This  jargon  is  found  in  a  magic  papyrus  at  Berlin. 


76 


UARDA. 


scriptions  of  the  religion  of  his  fathers.  Adultery  was  a 
heavy  sin  ;  but  had  not  he  an  older  right  to  Nefert  than 
the  kings  charioteer? 

He  who  followed  the  black  arts  of  magic,  should,  ac- 
cording to  the  law,  be  punished  by  death,  and  the  old 
woman  had  a  bad  name  for  her  evil  arts  ;  but  he  had  not 
sought  her  for  the  sake  of  the  philter.  Was  it  not  possible 
that  the  Manes  of  his  forefathers,  that  the  gods  themselves, 
moved  by  his  prayers  and  offerings,  had  put  him  in  pos- 
session, by  an  accident — which  was  almost  a  miracle — of 
the  magic  potion  whose  efficacy  he  never  for  an  instant 
doubted  ? 

Paaker's  associates  held  him  to  be  a  man  of  quick  de- 
cision, and,  in  fact,  in  difficult  cases  he  could  act  with 
unusual  rapidity,  but  what  guided  him  in  these  cases,  was 
not  the  swift-winged  judgment  of  a  prepared  and  well- 
schooled  brain,  but  usually  only  resulted  from  the  out- 
come of  a  play  of  question  and  answer. 

Amulets  of  the  most  various  kinds  hung  round  his  neck, 
and  from  his  girdle,  all  consecrated  by  priests,  and  of 
special  sanctity  or  the  highest  efficacy. 

There  was  the  lapis  lazuli  eye,  which  hung  to  his  girdle 
by  a  gold  chain  ;  when  he  threw  it  on  the  ground,  so  as  to 
lie  on  the  earth,  if  its  engraved  side  turned  to  heaven  and 
its  smooth  side  lay  on  the  ground,  he  said,  "  yes  ;  "  in  the 
other  case,  on  the  contrary,  ' c  no;"  In  his  purse  lay  always 
a  statuette  of  the  god  Apheru,*  who  opened  roads  ;  this  he 
threw  down  at  cross-roads,  and  followed  the  direction 
which  the  pointed  snout  of  the  image  indicated.  He  fre- 
quently called  into  council  the  seal-ring  of  his  deceased 
father,  an  old  family  possession,  which  the  chief-priest  of 
Abydos  had  laid  upon  the  holiest  of  the  fourteen  graves  of 
Osiris,  and  endowed  with  miraculous  power,  f  It  consisted 
of  a  gold  ring  with  a  broad  signet,  on  which  could  be  read 
the  name  of  Thotmes  III. ,  who  had  long  since  been  deified, 
and  from  whom  Paaker  s  ancestors  had  derived  it.    If  it 

*  A  particular  form  of  Anubis — as  was  the  jackal-headed  local  divinity 
of  Lykopolis,  the  modern  Sint 

t  Typhon  cut  the  body  of  Osiris  into  fourteen  pieces,  and  then  strewed 
them  in  Kgypt.  When  Isis  found  one  of  them  she  erected  a  monument 
to  her  husband.  In  later  times  none  of  these  was  reckoned  more  holy 
that  of  Abydos,  whither  also  Egyptians  of  rank  had  their  mummies  con- 
veyed to  rest  in  the  vicinity  of  Osiris. 


UARDA. 


77 


were  desirable  to  consult  the  ring,  the  Mohar  touched  with 
the  point  of  his  bronze  dagger  the  engraved  sign  of  the 
name,  below  which  were  represented  three  objects  sacred 
to  the  gods,  and  three  that  were,  on  the  contrary,  profane. 
If  he  hit  one  of  the  former,  he  concluded  that  his  father— 
who  was  gone  to  Osiris— concurred  in  his  design  ;  in  the 
contrary  case  he  was  careful  to  postpone  it.  Often  he 
pressed  the  ring  to  his  heart  and  awaited  the  first  living 
creature  that  he  might  meet,  regarding  it  as  a  messenger 
from  his  father ;  if  it  came  to  him  from  the  right  hand  as 
an  encouragement,  if  from  the  left  as  a  warning. 

By  degrees  he  had  reduced  these  questionings  to  a  sys- 
tem. All  that  he  found  in  nature  he  referred  to  himself 
and  the  current  of  his  life.  It  was  at  once  touching  and 
pitiful  to  see  how  closely  he  lived  with  the  Manes  of  his 
dead.  His  lively  but  not  exalted  fancy,  whenever  he  gave 
it  play,  presented  to  the  eye  of  his  soul  the  image  of  his 
father  and  of  an  elder  brother  who  had  died  early,  always 
in  the  same  spot,  and  almost  tangibly  distinct. 

But  he  never  conjured  up  the  remembrance  of  the  be- 
loved dead  in  order  to  think  of  them  with  silent  melan- 
choly—that sweet  blossom  of  the  thorny  wreath  of  sorrow  ; 
only  for  selfish  ends.  The  appeal  to  the  Manes  of  his 
father.hehad  found  especially  efficacious  in  certain  desires 
and  difficulties  ;  calling  on  the  Manes  of  his  brother  was 
potent  in  certain  others  ;  and  so  he  turned  from  one  to  the 
other  with  the  precision  of  a  carpenter,  who  rarely  doubts 
whether  he  should  give  the  preference  to  a  hatchet  or  a 
saw. 

These  doings  he  held  to  be  well-pleasing  to  the  gods, 
and  as  he  was  convinced  that  the  spirits  of  his  dead  had, 
after  their  justification,  passed  into  Osiris— that  is  to  say, 
as  atoms  forming  part  of  the  great  world-soul,  at  this  time 
had  a  share  in  the  direction  of  the  universe— he  sacrificed 
to  them  not  only  in  the  family  catacomb,  but  also  in  the 
temples  of  the  Necropolis  dedicated  to  the  worship  of 
ancestors,  and  with  special  preference  in  the  House  of 
Seti.  .  , 

He  accepted  advice,  nay,  even  blame,  from  Ameni  and 
the  other  priests  under  his  direction  ;  and  so  lived  full  of  a 
virtuous  pride  in  being  one  of  the  most  zealous  devotees 
in  the  land,  and  one  of  the  most  pleasing  to  the  gods,  a 
belief  on  which  his  pastors  never  threw  any  doubt. 


78  UARDA. 

Attended  and  guided  at  every  step  by  supernatural 
powers,  he  wanted  no  friend  and  no  confidant.  In  the 
held,  as  m  Thebes,  he  stood  apart  and  passed  among-  his 
comrades  for  a  reserved  man,  rough  and  proud,  but  with  a 
strong  will. 

He  had  the  power  of  calling  up  the  image  of  his  lost 
love  with  as  much  vividness  as  the  forms  of  the  dead  and 
indulged  m  this  magic  not  only  through  a  hundred'  still 
nights,  but  m  long  rides  and  drives  through  silent  wastes 
Such  visions  were  commonly  followed  by  a  vehement 
and  boiling  overflow  of  his  hatred  against  the  charioteer 
and  a  whole  series  of  fervent  prayers  for  his  destruction  ' 
When  Paaker  set  the  cup  of  water  for  Nefert  on  the 
flat  stone  and  felt  for  the  philter,  his  soul  was  so  full  of 
desire  that  there  was  no  room  for  hatred  ;  still  he  could 
not  altogether  exclude  the  idea  that  he  would  commit 
a  great  crime  by  making  use  of  a  magic  drink.  Before 
pouring  the  fateful  drops  into  the  water  he  would  consult 
the  oracle  of  the  ring.    The  dagger  touched  none  of  the 
holy  symbols  of  the  inscription  on  the  signet,  and  in  other 
circumstances  he  would,  without  going  any  further  have 
given  up  his  project. 

But  this  time  he  unwillingly  returned  it  to  its  sheath 
pressed  the  gold  ring  to  his  heart,  muttered  the  name  of 
his  brother  m  Osiris,  and  awaited  the  first  living-  creature 
that  might  come  toward  him. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait ;  from  the  mountain  slope  op- 
posite to  him  rose,  with  heavy,  slow  wing-strokes,  two 
light  colored  vultures. 

.In  anxious  suspense  he  followed  their  flight  as  they  rose 
higher  and  higher.    For  a  moment  they  poised  motion- 
less, borne  up  by  the  air,  circled  round  each  other,  then 
wheeled  to  the  left  and  vanished  behind  the  mountains 
denying  him  the  fulfillment  of  his  desire. 

He  hastily  grasped  the  phial  to  fling  it  from  him,  but 
the  surging  passion  in  his  veins  had  deprived  him  of  his 
self-control.  Neferfs  image  stood  before  him  as  if  beck- 
oning him  ;  a  mysterious  power  clinched  his  fingers  close 
and  yet  closer  round  the  phial,  and  with  the  same  defiance 
which  he  showed  to  his  associates,  he  poured  half  of  the 
philter  into  the  cup  and  approached  his  victim. 

Nefert  had  meanwhile  left  her  shady  retreat  and  came 
toward  him. 


UARDA. 


79 


She  silently  accepted  the  water  he  offered  her,  and 
drank  it  with  delight  to  the  very  dregs. 

"  Thank  you/7  she  said,  when  she  had  recovered  breath 
after  her  eager  draught.  ' '  That  has  done  me  good  !  How 
fresh  and  acid  the  water  tastes  ;  but  your  hand  shakes^ 
and  you  are  heated  by  your  quick  run  for  me— poor  man." 

With  these  words  she  looked  at  him  v/ith  a  peculiar  ex- 
pressive glance  of  her  large  eyes,  and  gave  him  her  right 
hand  which  he  pressed  wildly  to  his  lips. 

"  That  will  do,';  she  said,  smiling;  4 'here  comes  the 
princess  with  a  priest,  out  of  the  hovel  of  the  unclean. 
With  what  frightful  words  you  terrified  me  just  now.  It 
is  true  I  gave  you  just  cause  to  be  angry  with  me  ;  but 
now  you  are  kind  again— do  you  hear? — and  will  bring 
your  mother  again  to  see  mine.  Not  a  word.  ^  I  shall  see, 
whether  cousin  Paaker  refuses  me  obedience." 

She  threatened  him  playfully  with  her  finger  and  then 
growing  grave  she  added,  with  a  look  that  pierced  Paaker  s 
heart  with  pain  and  yet  with  ecstasy,  "  Let  us  leave  off 
quarreling.  It  is  so  much  better  when  people  are  kind  to 
each  other." 

After  these  words  she  walked  toward  the  house  of  the 
paraschites,  while  Paaker  pressed  his  hands  to  his  breast, 
and  murmured  : 

"  The  drink  is  working  and  she  will  be  mine.  I  thank 
ye — ye  immortals  !  " 

But  this  thanksgiving,  which  hitherto  he  had  never  failed 
to  utter  when  any  good  fortune  had  befallen  him,  to-day 
died  on  his  lips.  Close  before  him  he  saw  the  goal  of  his 
desires  ;  there,  under  his  eyes,  lay  the  magic  spring  longed 
for  for  years.  A  few  steps  further,  and  he  might  slake  at 
its  copious  stream  his  thirst  both  for  love  and  for  revenge. 

While  he  followed  the  wife  of  Mena,  and  replaced  the 
phial  carefully  in  his  girdle,  so  as  to  lose  no  drop  of  the 
precious  fluid  which,  according  to  the  prescription  of  the 
old  woman,  he  needed  to  use  again,  warning  voices  spoke 
in  his  breast,  to  which  he  usually  listened  as  to  a  fatherly 
admonition  ;  but  at  this  moment  he  mocked  at  them,  and 
even  gave  outward  expression  to  the  mood  that  ruled  him 
— for  he  flung  up  his  right  hand  like  a  drunken  man,  who 
turns  away  from  the  preacher  of  morality  on  his  way  to 
the  wine-cask ;  and  yet  passion  held  him  so  closely  en- 


8o 


UARDA. 


snared  that  the  thought  that  he  should  live  through  the 
swift  moments  which  would  change  him  from  an  honest 
man  into  a  criminal  hardly  dawned  darkly  on  his  soul 
He  had  hitherto  dared  to  indulge  his  desire  for  love  and 
revenge  in  thought  only,  and  had  left  it  to  the  gods  to 
act  for  themselves  ;  now  he  had  taken  his  cause  out  of 
the  hand  of  the  Celestials,  and  gone  into  action  without 
them  and  in  spite  of  them. 

The  sorceress  Hekt  passed  him  ;  she  wanted  to  see  the 
woman  for  whom, she  had  given  him  the  phdlter.  He 
perceived  her  and  shuddered,  but  soon  the  old  woman 
vanished  among  the  rocks  muttering  : 

' 'Look  at  the  fellow  with  six  toes.  He  makes  himself 
comfortable  with  the  heritage  of  Assa." 

In  the  middle  of  the  valley  walked  Nefert  and  the 
pioneer,  with  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  and  Pentaur,  who 
accompanied  her. 

When  these  two  had  come  out  of  the  hut  of  the  paras- 
chites  they  stood  opposite  each  other  in  silence. 
.  Tne  royal  maiden  pressed  her  hand  to  her  heart,  and, 
like  one  who  is  thirsty,  drank  in  the  pure  air  of  the  mount- 
ain valley  with  deeply  drawn  breath  ;  she  felt  as  if  released 
from  some  overwhelming  burden,  as  if  delivered  from  some 
frightful  danger. 

At  last  she  turned  to  her  companion,  who  gazed  earnestly 
at  the  ground. 

"  What  an  hour  !  "  she  said. 

Pentaur  s  tall  figure  did  not  move,  but  he  bowed  his 
head  in  assent,  as  if  he  were  in  a  dream. 
.  Bent-Anat  now  saw  him  for  the  first  time  in  full  day- 
light ;  her  large  eyes  rested  on  him  with  admiration,  and 
she  asked  : 

"  Art  thou  the  priest,  who,  yesterday  after  my  first  visit 
to  this  house,  so  readily  restored  me  to  cleanness  ?  " 
"lam  he,"  replied  Pentaur. 

"  I  recognized  thy  voice,  and  I  am  grateful  to  thee,  for 
it  was  thou  that  didst  strengthen  my  courage  to  follow  the 
impulse  of  my  heart  in  spite  of  my  spiritual  guides,  and  to 
come  here  again.  Thou  wilt  defend  me  if  others  blame 
me." 

"  I  came  here  to  pronounce  thee  unclean/' 
"  Then  thou  hast  changed  thy  mind  ?  "  asked  Bent-Anat, 
and  a  smile  of  contempt  curled  her  lips. 


UARDA. 


81 


"  I  follow  a  high  injunction,  that  commands  us  to  keep 
the  old  institutions  sacred.  If  touching  a  paraschites,  it  is 
said,  does  not  defile  a  princess,  whom  then  can  rt  defile  I 
for  whose  garment  is  more  spotless  than  hers  ?  ; 

<<  But  this  is  a  good  man  with  all  his  meanness,  inter- 
rupted Bent-Anat,  ' '  and  in  spite  of  the  disgrace,  which  is 
the  bread  of  life  to  him  as  honor  is  to  us.  May  the  nine 
great  Gods  forgive  me  !  but  he  who  is  m  there  is  loving, 
pious  and  brave,  and  pleases  me- and  thou,  thou,  who 
didst  think  yesterday  to  purge  away  the  taint  of  his  touch 
with  a  word— what  prompts  thee  to-day  to  cast  him  with 
the  lepers  ?  " 

"  The  admonition  of  an  enlightened  man,  never  to  give 
up  any  link  of  the  old  institutions  ;  because  thereby  the 
already  weakened  chain  may  be  broken,  and  fall  rattling 
to  the  ground/' 

"  Then  thou  condemnestme  to  uncleanness  tor  the  sake 
of  an  old  superstition,  and  of  the  populace,  but  not  for 
my  actions  ?  Thou  art  silent  ?  Answer  me  now,  if  thou 
art  such  a  one  as  I  took  thee  for,  freely  and  sincerely  ;  for 
it  concerns  the  peace  of  my  soul."  - 

Pentaur  breathed  hard ;  and  then  from  the  depths  ot 
his  soul,  tormented  by  doubts,  these  deeply-felt  words 
forced  themselves  as  if  wrung  from  him ;  at  first  softly, 
but  louder  as  he  went  on.  I  ,.•*, 

«  Thou  dost  compel  me  to  say  what  I  had  better  not 
even  think  ;  but  rather  will  I  sin  against  t  obedience  than 
against  truth,  the  pure  daughter  of  the  Sun,  whose  aspect, 
Bent-Anat,  thou  dost  wear.  Whether  the  paraschites  is 
unclean  by  birth  or  not,  who  am  I  that  I  should  decide  ? 
But  to  me  this  man  appeared— as  to  thee— as  one  moved 
by  the  same  pure  and  holy  emotions  as  stir  and  bless  me 
and  mine,  and  thee  and  every  soul  born  of  woman  ;  and  1 
believe  that  the  impressions  of  this  hour  have  touched  thy 
soul  as  well  as  mine,  not  to  taint  but  to  purify.  If  I  am 
wrong  may  the  many-named  Gods  forgive  me,  Whose 
breath  lives  and  works  in  the  paraschites  as  well  as  m  thee 
and  me,  in  Whom  I  believe,  and  to  Whom  I  will  ever 
address  my  humble  songs  louder  and  more  joyfully  as  1 
learn  that  all  that  lives  and  breathes,  that  weeps  and  re- 
joices, is  the  image  of  thefr  sublime  nature,  and  born  to 
equal  joy  and  equal  sorrow." 
6 


82 


UARDA. 


Pentaur  had  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  ;  now  they  met 
the  proud  and  joyful  radiance  of  the  princess'  glance,  while 
she  frankly  offered  him  her  hand.  He  humbly  kissed  her 
robe,  but  she  said  : 

"  Nay — not  so.  Lay  thy  hand  in  blessing  on  mine. 
Thou  art  a  man  and  a  true  priest.  Now  I  can  be  satisfied 
to  be  regarded  as  unclean,  for  my  father  also  desires  that 
by  us  especially  the  institutions  of  the  past  that  have  so 
long  continued  should  be  respected,  for  the  sake  of  the 
people.  Let  us  pray  in  common  to  the  gods,  that  these 
poor  people  may  be  released  from  the  old  ban.  How 
beautiful  the  world  might  be,  if  men  would  but  let  man 
remain  what  the  Celestials  have  made  him.  But  Paaker 
and  poor  Nefert  are  waiting  in  the  scorching  sun — come, 
follow  me." 

She  went  forward,  but  after  a  few  steps  she  turned  round 
to  him,  and  asked  : 

"What  is  thy  name?" 
"  Pentaur." 

"  Thou,  then,  art  the  poet  of  the  house  of  Seti  ?  " 
"They  call  me  so." 

Bent-Anat  stood  still  a  moment,  gazing  full  at  him  as  at 
a  kinsman  whom  we  meet  for  the  first  time  face  to  face, 
and  said  : 

<£The  gods  have  given  thee  great  gifts,  for  thy  glance 
reaches  further  and  pierces  deeper  than  that  of  other  men  ; 
and  thou  canst  say  in  words  what  we  can  only  feel — I 
follow  thee  willingly  !  " 

Pentaur  blushed  like  a  boy,  and  said,  while  Paaker  and 
Nefert  came  nearer  to  them  : 

''Till  to-day  life  lay  before  me  as  if  in  twilight;  but 
this  moment  shows  it  to  me  in  another  light.  I  have  seen 
its  deepest  shadows  ;  and,"  he  added  in  a  low  tone,  "  how 
glorious  its  light  can  be." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

An  hour  later,  Bent-Anat  and  her  train  of  followers  stood 
before  the  gate  of  the  House  of  Seti. 

Swift  as  a  ball  thrown  from  a  man's  hand,  a  runner  had 


UARDA. 


S3 


sprung  forward  and  hurried  on  to  announce  the  approach 
of  the  princess  to  the  chief  priest.  She  stood  alone  in  her 
chariot  in  advance  of  all  her  companions,  for  Pentaur  had 
found  a  place  with  Paaker.  At  the  gate  of  the  temple  they 
were  met  by  the  head  of  the  haruspices. 

The  great  doors  of  the  Pylon  were  wide  open,  and 
afforded  a  view  into  the  forecourt  of  the  sanctuary,  paved 
with  polished  squares  of  stone,  and  surrounded  on  three 
sides  with  colonnades.  The  walls  and  architraves,  the 
pillars  and  the  fluted  cornice,  which  slightly  curved  in 
over  the  court,  were  gorgeous  with  many-colored  figures 
and  painted  decorations.  In  the  middle  stood  a  great 
sacrificial  altar,  on  which  burned  logs  of  cedar  wood, 
while  fragrant  balls  of  Kyphi*  were  consumed  by  the 
flames,  filling  the  wide  space  with  their  heavy  perfume. 
Around,  in  semicircular  array,  stood  more  than  a  hundred 
white-robed  priests,  who  all  turned  to  face  the  approach- 
ing princess,  and  sang  heart-rending  songs  of  lamenta- 
tion. 

Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Necropolis  had  collected 
on  either  side  of  the  lines  of  sphinxes,  between  which  the 
princess  drove  up  to  the  sanctuary.  But  none  asked  what 
these  songs  of  lamentation  might  signify,  for  about  this 
sacred  place  lamentation  and  mystery  forever  lingered. 
"Hail  to  the  child  of  Rameses  !  "  "All  hail  to  the 
daughter  of  the  Sun  !  "  rang  from  a  thousand  throats  ;  and 
the  assembled  multitude  bowed  almost  to  the  earth  at  the 
approach  of  the  royal  maiden. 

At  the  Pylon,  the  princess  descended  from  her  chariot, 
and  preceded  by  the  chief  of  the  haruspices,  who  had 
gravely  and  silently  greeted  her,  passed  on  to  the  door  of 
the  temple.  But  as  she  prepared  to  cross  the  forecourt, 
suddenly,  without  warning,  the  priests'  chant  swelled  to 
a  terrible,  almost  thundering  loudness,  the  clear,  shrill 
voices  of  the  Temple  scholars  rising  in  passionate  lament, 
supported  by  the  deep  and  threatening  roll  of  the  basses. 

*  Kyphi  was  a  celebrated  Egyptian  incense.  Recipes  for  its  prepara- 
tion have  been  preserved  in  the  papyrus  of  Ebers,  in  the  laboratories  of 
the  temples,  and  elsewhere.  Parthey  had  three  different  varieties  pre- 
pared by  the  chemist,  L.  Voigt,  in  Berlin.  Kyphi,  after  the  formula  of 
Dioskorides,  was  the  best.  It  consisted  of  rosin,  wine,  Rad,  Galangae, 
juniper-berries,  the  root  of  the  aromatic  rush,  asphalt,  mastic,  myrrh, 
Burgundy  grapes,  and  honey. 


84 


UARDA. 


Bent-Anat  started  and  checked  her  steps.  Then  she 
walked  on  a<rain. 

o 

But  on  the  threshold  of  the  door,  Ameni.  in  full  pontifical 
robes,  stood  before  her  in  the  way,  his  crozier  extended  as 
though  to  forbid  her  entrance. 

"The  advent  of  the  daughter  of  Rameses  in  her  purity," 
he  cried  in  loud  and  passionate  tones,  "augurs  blessing 
to  this  sanctuary  ;  but  this  abode  of  the  gods  closes  its 
portals  on  the  unclean,  be  they  slaves  or  princes.  In  the 
name  of  the  Immortals,  from  whom  thou  art  descended,  I 
ask  thee,  Bent-Anat,  art  thou  clean,  or  hast  thou,  through 
the  touch  of  the  unclean,  defiled  thyself  and  contaminated 
thy  royal  hand?  "  * 

Deep  scarlet  flushed  the  maiden's  cheeks,  there  was  a 
rushing  sound  in  her  ears  as  of  a  stormy  sea  surging  close 
beside  her,  and  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  in  passionate  emo- 
tion. The  kingly  blood  in  her  veins  boiled  wildly  ;  she 
felt  that  an  unworthy  part  had  been  assigned  to  her  in  a 
carefully-premeditated  scene;  she  forgot  her  resolution 
to  accuse  herself  of  uncleanness,  and  already  her  lips  were 
parted  in  vehement  protest  against  the  priestly  assumption 
that  so  deeply  stirred  her  to  rebellion,  when  Ameni,  who 
had  placed  himself  directly  in  front  of  the  princess,  raised 
his  eyes,  and  turned  them  full  upon  her  with  all  the 
depths  of  their  indwelling  earnestness. 

The  words  died  away,  and  Bent-Anat  stood  silent,  but 
she  endured  the  gaze,  and  returned  it  proudly' and 
defiantly. 

The  blue  veins  started  in  Ameni's  forehead,  yet  he  re- 
pressed  the  resentment  which  was  gathering  like  thunder- 
clouds in  his  soul,  and  said,  with  a  voice  that  gradually 
deviated  more  and  more  from  its  usual  moderation  : 

"For  the  second  time  the  gods  demand  through  me, 
their  representative  :  Hast  thou  entered  this  holy  place  in 
order  that  the  Celestials  may  purge  thee  of  the  defilement 
that  stains  thy  body  and  soul  ?  " 

"My  father  will  communicate  the  answer  to  thee," 
replied  Bent-Anat,  shortly  and  proudly. 

"Not  to  me,"  returned  Ameni,  "but  to  the  gods,  in 
whose  name  I  now  command  thee  to  quit  this  sanctuary, 
which  is  defiled  by  thy  presence." 

Bent-Anat's  whole  frame  quivered.  "I  will  go,"  she 
said,  with  sullen  dignity. 


UAHDA. 


*5 


She  turned  to  recross  the  gateway  of  the  Pylon.  At 
the  first  step  her  glance  met  the  eye  of  the  poet. 

As  one  to  whom  it  is  vouchsafed  to  stand  and  gaze  at 
some  great  prodigy,  so  Pentaur  had  stood  opposite  the 
royal  maiden,  uneasy  and  yet  fascinated,  agitated,  yet  with 
secretly  uplifted  soul.  Her  deed  seemed  to  him  of  bound- 
less audacity,  and  yet  one  suited  to  her  true  and  noble 
nature.  By  her  side,  Ameni,  his  revered  and  admired 
master,  sank  into  insignificance  ;  and  when  she  turned 
to  leave  the  temple,  his  hand  was  raised  indeed  to  hold 
her  back,  but  as  his  glance  met  hers,  his  hand  refused  its 
office,  and  sought  instead  to  still  the  throbbing  of  his  over- 
flowing heart. 

The  experienced  priest,  meanwhile,  read  the  features 
of  these  two  guileless  beings  like  an  open  book.  A  quickly 
formed  tie,  he  felt,  linked  their  souls,  and  the  look  which 
he  saw  them  exchange  startled  him.  The  rebellious  prin- 
cess had  glanced  at  the  poet  as  though  claiming  approba- 
tion for  her  triumph,  and  Pentaur's  eyes  had  responded  to 
the  appeal. 

One  instant  Ameni  paused.  Then  he  cried  "  Bent- 
Anat  !  " 

The  princess  turned  to  the  priest,  and  looked  at  him 
gravely  and  inquiringly. 

Ameni  took  a  step  forward,  and  stood  between  her  and 
the  poet. 

' ' Thou  wouldst  challenge  the  gods  to  combat,"  he  said 
sternly.  ' 'That  is  bold  ;  but  such  daring  it  seems  to  me 
has  grown  up  in  thee  because  thou  canst  count  on  an  ally, 
who  stands  scarcely  farther  from  the  Immortals  than  I 
myself.  Hear  this  :  to  thee,  the  misguided  child,  much 
may  be  forgiven.  But  a  servant  of  the  Divinity,"  and 
with  these  words  he  turned  a  threatening  glance  on  Pen- 
taur, "a  priest,  who  in  the  war  of  free-will  against  law 
becomes  a  deserter,  who  forgets  his  duty  and  his  oath — 
he  will  not  long  stand  beside  thee  to  support  thee,  for  he — 
even  though  every  God  had  blessed  him  with  the  richest 
gifts — he  is  damned.  We  drive  him  from  among  us,  we 
curse  him,  we  " 

At  these  wTords  Bent-Anat  looked  now  at  Ameni,  trem- 
bling with  excitement,  and  now  at  Pentaur  standing  oppo- 
site to  her.    Her  face  was  red  and  white  by  turns,  as  light 


86 


UARDA. 


and  shade  chase  each  other  on  the  ground  when  at  noon- 
day a  palm  grove  is  stirred  by  a  storm. 
The  poet  took  a  step  toward  her. 

She  felt  that  if  he  spoke  it  would  be  to  defend  ail  that 
she  had  done,  and  to  ruin  himself.  A  deep  sympathy, 
a  nameless  anguish  seized  her  soul,  and  before  Pentaur 
could  open  his  lips,  she  had  sunk  slowly  down  before 
Amen:,  saying-  in  low  tones  : 

"  I  have  sinned  and  deiiled  myself  :  thou  hast  said  it  

as  Pentaur  said  it  by  the  hut  of  the  paraschites.  Restore 
me  to  cleanness.  Ameni,  for  I  am  unclean." 

Like  a^flame  that  is  crushed  out  by  a  hand,  so  the  fire 
in  the  high-priests  eye  was  extinguished.  Graciously, 
almost  lovingly,  he  looked  down  on  the  princess,  blessed 
her  and  conducted  her  before  the  holy  of  holies,  there  had 
clouds  of  incense  wafted  round  her'  anointed  her  with 
the  nine  holy  oils,  and  commanded  her  to  return  to  the 
royal  castle. 

^  \et.  said  he,  her  guilt  was  not  expiated;  she  should 
shortly  learn  by  what  prayers  and  exercises  she  might 
attain  once  more  to  perfect  purity  before  the  gods,&of 
whom  he  purposed  to  inquire  in  the  holy  place. 

During  all  these  ceremonies  the  priests  stationed  in  the 
forecourt  continued  their  lamentations. 

The  people  standing  before  the  temple  listened  to  the 
priests'  chant,  and  interrupted  it  from  time  to  time  with 
ringing  cries  o{  wailing,  for  already  a  dark  rumor  of 
what  was  going  on  within  had  spread  among-  the  mul- 
titude. * 

The  sun  was  going  down.  The  visitors  to  the  Necropo- 
lis must  soon  be  leaving  it,  and  Bent-Anat,  for  whose  ap- 
pearance the  people  impatiently  waited,  would  not  show 
herself.  One  and  another  said  the  princess  had  been 
cursed,  because  she  had  taken  remedies  to  the  fair  and 
injured  Uarda,  who  was  known  to  many  of  them. 

Among  the  curious  who  had  flocked  together  were 
many  embalmers,  laborers  and  humble  folk,  who  lived 
*n  the  Necropolis:  The  mutinous  and  refractory  temper 
of  the  Egyptians,  which  brought  such  heavy  suffering  on 
them  under  their  later  foreign  rulers,  was  aroused,  and  rising 
with  every  minute.  They  reviled  the  pride  of  the  priests" 
and  their  senseless,  worthless,  institutions.    A  drunken 


UARDA. 


87 


soldier,  who  soon  reeled  back  into  the  tavern  which  he  had 
but  just  left,  distinguished  himself  as  ringleader,  and 
was  the  first  to  pick  up  a  heavy  stone  to  fling  at  the  huge 
brass-plated  temple  gates.  A  few  boys  followed  his  ex- 
ample with  shouts,  and  law-abiding  men  even,  urged  by 
the  clamor  of  fanatical  women,  let  themselves  be  led  away 
to  stone-flinging  and  words  of  abuse. 

Within  the  House  of  Seti  the  priests'  chant  went  on  un- 
interruptedly ;  but  at  last,  when  the  noise  of  the  crowd 
grew  louder,  the  great  gate  was  thrown  open,  and  with  a 
solemn  step  Ameni,  in  full  robes,  and  followed  by  twenty 
pastophori,  who  bore  images  of  the  gods  and  holy  symbols 
on  their  shoulders— Ameni  walked  into  the  midst  of  the 
crowd. 

All  were  silent.  .  „ 

< '  Wherefore  do  you  disturb  our  worship  ?  he  asked, 
loudly  and  calmly.  . 

A  roar  of  confused  cries  answered  him,  m  which  the 
frequently  repeated  name  of  Bent-Anat  could  alone  be  dis- 
tinguished. .  . 

Ameni  preserved  his  immovable  composure,  and  raising 

his  crozier,  he  cried  : 

"Make  way  for  the  daughter  of  Rameses,  who  sought 
and  has  found  purification  from  the  gods,  who  behold  the 
guilt  of  the  highest  as  of  the  lowest  among  you.  They  re- 
ward the  pious,  but  they  punish  the  offender.  Kneel  down 
and  let  us  pray  that  they  may  forgive  you  and  bless  both 
you  and  your  children." 

Ameni  took  the  holy  Sistrum  *  from  one  of  the  at- 
tendant pastophori,  and  held  it  on  high  ;  the  priests  behind 
him  raised  a  solemn  hymn,  and  the  crowd  sank  on  their 
knees  ;  nor  did  they  move  till  the  chant  ceased  and  the 
high-priest  again  cried  out : 

*  A  rattling  metal  instrument  used  by  the  Egyptians  in  the  service  of 
the  Gods.  Many  specimens  are  extant  in  Museums.  Plutarch  describes 
it  correctly,  thus  :  "  The  Sistrum  is  rounded  above,  and  the  loop  holds  the 
four  bars  which  are  shaken.  On  the  bend  of  the  Sistrum  they  often  set 
the  head  of  a  cat  with  a  human  face ;  below  the  four  little  bars,  on  one 
side  is  the  face  of  Isis,  on  the  other  that  of  Nephthys."  The  cat  head  is 
seen  on  a  bronze  Sistrum  in  the  Berlin  Museum  ;  on  other  examples  we 
find  at  the  upper  end  of  the  handle  the  usual  mask  of  Hathor.  In  the 
sanctuary  of  this  Goddess  at  Dendera  the  image  of  the  holy  Sistrum 
was  thrown  into  great  prominence. 


88  UARDA. 

"The  Immortals  bless  you  by  me  their  servant  Leave 
this  spot  and  make  way  for  the  daughter  of  Rameses  " 

With  these  words  he  withdrew  into  the  temple  and  the 
patrol,  without  meeting  with  any  opposition,  cleared  the 
road  guarded  by  Sphinxes  which  led  to  the  Nile. 

As  Bent-Anat  mounted  her  chariot  Ameni  said  • 
"  Thou  art  the  child  of  kings.    The  house  of  thy  father 
rests  on  the  shoulders  of  the  people.    Loosen  the  old  laws 
which  hold  them  subject,  and  the  people  will  conduct 
themselves  like  these  fools. " 

Ameni  retired.  Bent-Anat  slowly  arranged  the  reins  in 
her  hand,  her  eyes  resting  the  while  on  the  poet,  who  lean- 
ing against  a  door-post,  gazed  at  her  in  beatitude/  She 
let  her  whip  fall  to  the  ground,  that  he  might  pick  it  up 
and  restore  it  to  her,  but  he  did  not  observe  it.  A  runner 
sprang  forward  and  handed  it  to  the  princess,  whose  horses 
started  off,  tossing  themselves  and  neighing. 

Pentaur  remained  as  if  spell-bound,  standing  by  the 
pillar,  till  the  rattle  of  the  departing  wheels  on  the  flap- 
way  of  the  Avenue  of  Sphinxes  had  altogether  died  away 
and  the  reflection  of  the  glowing  sunset  painted  the  eastern 
hills  with  soft  and  rosy  hues. 

The  far-sounding  clang  of  a  brass  gong  roused  the  poet 
trom  his  ecstasy.  It  was  the  tom-tom  calling  him  to  duty 
to  the  lecture  on  rhetoric,  which  at  this  hour  he  had  to 
deliver  to  the  young  priests.  He  laid  his  left  hand  to  his 
heart,  and  pressed  his  right  hand  to  his  forehead,  as  if  to 
collect  in  its  grasp  his  wandering  thoughts ;  then  silently 
and  mechanically  he  went  toward  the  open  court  in  which 
his  disciples  awaited  him.  But  instead  of,  as  usual  con- 
sidering on  the  way  the  subject  he  was  to  treat,  his'spirit 
and  heart  were  occupied  with  the  occurrences  of  the  last 
few  hours.  One  image  reigned  supreme  in  his  imagination, 
filling  it  with  delight— it  was  that  of  the  fairest  woman 
who,  radiant  in  her  royal  dignity  and  trembling  with  pride 
had  thrown  herself  in  the  dust  for  his  sake.  He  felt  as  if 
her  action  had  invested  his  whole  being  with  a  new  and 
princely  worth,  as  if  her  glance  had  brought  light  to  his 
inmost  soul,  he  seemed  to  breathe  a  freer  air,  to  be  borne 
onward  on  winged  feet. 

In  such  a  mood  he  appeared  before  his  hearers. 

When  he  found  himself  confronting  all  the  well-known 


iJARDA. 


89 


faces,  he  remembered  what  it  was  he  was  called  upon  to 
do.  He  supported  himself  against  the  wall  of  the  court, 
and  opened  the  papyrus-roll  handed  to  him  by  his  favorite 
pupil,  the  young  Anana.  It, was  the  book  which  twenty- 
four  hours  ago  he  had  promised  to  begin  upon.  He  looked 
now  upon  the  characters  that  covered  it,  and  felt  that  he 
was  unable  to  read  a  word. 

With  a  powerful  effort  he  collected  himself,  and  looking 
upward  tried  to  find  the  thread  he  had  cut  at  the  end  of 
yesterday's  lecture,  and  intended  to  resume  to-day  ;  but 
between  yesterday  and  to-day,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  lay  a 
vast  sea  whose  roaring  surges  stunned  his  memory  and 
powers  of  thought. 

His  scholars,  squatting  cross-legged  on  reed-mats  before 
him,  gazed  in  astonishment  on  their  silent  master  who  was 
usually  so  ready  of  speech,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  each 
other.    A  young  priest  whispered  to  his  neighbor.  "  He  is 

praying  "  and  Anana  noticed  with  silent  anxiety  the 

strong  hand  of  his  teacher  clutching  the  manuscript  so 
tightly  that  the  slight  material  of  which  it  consisted 
threatened  to  split. 

At  last  Pentaur  looked  down  ;  he  had  found  a  subject. 
While  he  was  looking  upward  his  gaze  fell  on  the  opposite 
wall,  and  the  painted  name  of  the  king  with  the  accom- 
panying title  ' '  the  good  God  "  met  his  eye.  Starting  from 
these  words  he  put  this  question  to  his  hearers^  "  How  do 
we  apprehend  the  Goodness  of  the  Divinity  ?  " 

He  challenged  one  priest  after  another  to  treat  this 
s' abject  as  if  he  were  standing  before  his  future  congre- 
gation. 

Several  disciples  rose,  and  spoke  with  more  or  leps  truth 
and  feeling.  At  last  it  came  to  Anana's  turn,  who,  in  well- 
chosen  words,  praised  the  purposeful  beauty  of  animate 
and  inanimate  creation,  in  which  the  goodness  of  Amon,* 

*Amon,  that  is  to  say,  "  the  hidden  one."  He  was  the  god  of 
Thebes,  which  was  under  his  aegis,  and  after  the  Hyksos  were  expelled 
from  the  Nile  valley,  he  was  united  with  Ra  of  Heliopolis  and  endowed 
with  the  attributes  of  all  the  remaining  gods.  His  nature  was  more  and 
more  spiritualized,  till  in  the  esoteric  philosophy  of  the  time  of  the 
Rameses  he  is  compared  to  the  All-filling  and  All-guiding  intelligence 
He  is  "the  husband  of  his  mother,  his  own  father,  and  his  own  son/ 
As  the  living  Osiris,  he  is  the  soul  and  spirit  of  all  creation,  which  first 
enters  on  a  higher  order  of  existence  through  him.    He  was  "  benevo- 


UARDA.  90 


of  Ra  J  and  Ptah,f  as  well  as  of  the  other  gods,  finds  ex- 
pression. 6  ' 

Pentaur  listened  to  the  youth  with  folded  arms,  now 
looking  at  him  inquiringly,  now  nodding  approbation. 
Then  taking  up  the  thread  of  the  discourse  when  it  was 
ended,  he  began  himself  to  speak. 

Like  obedient  falcons  at  the  call  of  the  falconer,  thoughts 
rushed  down  into  his  mind,  and  the  divine  passiop 
awakened  in  his  breast  glowed  and  shone  through  his  in- 
spired language  that  soared  every  moment  on  freer  and 
stronger  wings.  Melting  into  pathos,  exulting  in  rapture 
he  praised  the  splendor  of  nature;  and  the  words  flowed 
trom  his  hps  like  a  limpid  crystal-clear  stream  as  he  glori- 
fied the  eternal  order  of  things,  and  the  incomprehensible 
wisdom  and  care  of  the  Creator— the  One,  who  is  one 
alone,  and  great,  and  without  equal. 

"So  incomparable,"  he  said  in  conclusion,  "is  ^bebo-ne 
which  God  has  given  us.  All  that  He— the  one— haj 
created  is  penetrated  with  his  own  essence,  and  bears  wit- 
ness  to  His  goodness.  He  who  knows  how  to  find  Him 
sees  Him  everywhere,  and  lives  at  every  instant  in  the  en- 
joyment of  his  glory.  Seek  Him,  and  when  ye  have 
found  Him  fall  down  and  sing  praises  before  Him  But 

Pra/w    t  not  °nl^  in  g^itude  for  the  splendor  ' 

of  that  which  He  has  created,  but  for  having  given  us  'he 
capacity  for  delight  in  His  work.    Ascend  the  mountain- 

Lelo','U'bef"tifV1'"  "without  equal,"  and  also  was  called  the  "annihi- 
late! of  evil  > '-by  which  man  expressed  his  reverence  foi  Hie  hidden 
power  which  raises  the  good,  and  overthrows  the  wicked.    Re     retr  e 

^SaSA^dtt^^  «P~d^ 
*Ra,  originally  the  Sun-god;  later  his  name  was  introduced  into 
Universe!  PhilosoPhy  for  *at  of  the  go*  who  is  The 

APtah  i?  Greek  Hephaistos,  the  oldest  of  the  gods,  the  great  mak<-r 
of  the  material  for  the  creation,  the  «  first  beginner,"  by  whose  side  th« 
seven  Chnemu  stand,  as  architects,  to  help  him,  and  who  was  named 
the  lord  of  truth,"  because  the  laws  and  conditions  of  being  proceeded 
heheaT.fSe  crfated  ^Iso  the  germ  of  light,  he  stood,  tLrrfore  at 
,  I6  i  J  ,  ,  Si>,ar  3°ds'  and  was  cal,ed  the  «eator  of  ice,  from  which 
when  he  had  cleft  it,  the  sun  and  the  moon  came  forth.  Hence  his 
name  "the  opener."    Memphis  was  the  center  of  his  worship  ApTs  his 

he  nla"'m  "  the,  myf teries  of  the  "nder-world,  and  of  immortality^ 
he  appears  usually  under  the  name  of  Ptah  Sodar  Osiris,  who  Kra  its 

esurrect  o.llg  ^  ^  P°Wer  '°  ^  ^  aS  l°  the  dead  he  ^  * 


UARDA. 


91 


peaks  and  look  on  the  distant  country,  worship  when  the 
sunset  glows  with  rubies,  and  the  dawn  with  roses,  go  out 
in  the  night-time,  and  look  at  the  stars  as  they  travel  in 
eternal,  unerring,  immeasurable,  and  endless  circles  on 
silver  barks  through  the  blue  vault  of  heaven,  stand  by 
the  cradle  of  the  child,  by  the  buds  of  the  flowers,  and 
see  how  the  mother  bends  over  the  one,  and  the  bright 
dewdrops  fall  on  the  other.  But  would  you  know  where 
the  stream  of  divine  goodness  is  most  freely  poured  out, 
where  the  grace  of  the  Creator  bestows  the  richest  gifts, 
and  where  His  holiest  altars  are  prepared  ?  In  your  own 
heart  ;  so  long  as  it  is  pure  and  full  of  love.  In  such  a 
heart/ nature  is  reflected  as  in  a  magic-mirror,  on  whose 
surface  the  beautiful  shines  in  threefold  beauty.  There  the 
eye  can  reach  far  away  over  stream,  and  meadow,  and  hill, 
and  take  in  the  whole  circle  of  the  earth  ;  there  the  morning 
and  evening  red  shine,  not  like  roses  and  rubies,  but  like 
the  very  cheeks  of  the  Goddess  of  Beauty  ;  there  the  stars 
circle  on,  not  in  silence,  but  with  the  mighty  voices  of 
the  pure  eternal  harmonies  of  heaven  ;  there  the  child 
smiles  like  an  infant-god,  and  the  bud  unfolds  to  magic 
flowers  ;  finally,  there  thankfulness  grows  broader  and 
devotion  grows  deeper,  and  we  throw  ourselves  into  the 
arms  of  a  god,  who— as  I  imagine  his  glory— is  a  god  to 
whom  the  sublime  nine  great  gods  pray  as  miserable  and 
helpless  suppliants." 

The  tom-tom  which  announced  the  end  of  the  hour  in- 
terrupted him. 

Pentaur  ceased  speaking  with  a  deep  sigh,  and  for  a 
minute  not  a  scholar  moved. 

At  last  the  poet  laid  the  papyrus-roll  out  of  his  hand, 
wiped  the  sweat  from  his  hot  brow,  and  walked  slowly  to- 
ward the  gate  of  the  court,  which  led  into  the  sacred  grove 
of  the  temple.  He  had  hardly  crossed  the  threshold  when 
he  felt  a  hand  laid  upon  his  shoulder. 

He  looked  round.    Behind  him  stood  Ameni. 

"You  fascinated  your  hearers,  my  friend,"  said  the 
high-priest,  coldly;  "  it  is  a  pity  that  only  the  harp  was 
wanting."  ' 

Ameni's  words  fell  on  the  agitated  spirit  of  the  poet  like 
ice  on  the  breast  of  a  man  in  fever.  He  knew  this  tone  in 
his  master's  voice,  for  thus  he  was  accustomed  to  reprove 


92 


UARDA. 


bad  scholars  and  erring  priests  ;  but  to  him  he  had  never 

yet  so  spoken. 

"  It  certainly  would  seem,"  continued  the  high-priest, 
bitterly,  "as  if  in  your  intoxication  you  had  forgotten 
what  it  becomes  the  teacher  to  utter  in  the  lecture-hall. 
Only  a  few  weeks  since  you  swore  on  my  hands  to  guard 
the  mysteries,  and  this  day  you  have  offered  the  great 
secret  of  the  Unnameable  one,  the  most  sacred  pos- 
session of  the  initiated,  like  some  cheap  ware  in  the  open 
market." 

"Thou  cuttest  with  knives,"  said  Pentaur. 

"May  they  prove  sharp,  and  extirpate  the  undeveloped 
canker,  the  rank  weed  from  your  soul,"  cried  the  high- 
priest.  "  You  are  young,  too  young  ;  not  like  the  tender 
fruit-tree  that  lets  itself  be  trained  aright,  and  brought  to 
perfection,  but  like  the  green  fruit  on  the  ground,  which 
will  turn  to  poison  for  the  children  who  pick  it  up — yei* 
even  though  it  fall  from  a  sacred  tree.  Gagabu  and  I  re- 
ceived you  among  us,  against  the  opinion  of  the  majority 
of  the  initiated.  We  gainsaid  all  those  who  doubted  your 
ripeness  because  of  jour  youth  ;  and  you  swore  to  me, 
gratefully  and  enthusiastically,  to  guard  the  mysteries  and 
the  law.  To-day  for  the  first  time  I  set  you  on  the  battle- 
field of  life  beyond  the  peaceful  shelter  of  the  schools.  And 
how  have  you  defended  the  standard  that  it  was  incum- 
bent on  you  to  uphold  and  maintain  ?  " 

"  I  did  that  which  seemed  to  me  to  be  right  and  true," 
answered  Pentaur  deeply  moved. 

"  Right  is  the  same  for  you  as  for  us— what  the  law  pre- 
scribes ;  and  what  is  truth  ?  " 

"None  has  lifted  her  veil,"  said  Pentaur,  "but  my  soul 
is  the  offspring  of  the  soul-filled  body  of  the  All ;  a  portion 
of  the  infallible  spirit  of  the  Divinity  stirs  in  my  breast, 
and  if  it  shows  itself  potent  in  me  " 

"How  easily  we  may  mistake  the  flattering  voice  of 
self-love  for  that  of  the  Divinity  !  " 

"Cannot  the  Divinity  which  works  and  speaks  in  me- 
as  in  thee— as  in  each  of  us— recognize  Himself  and  His 
own  voice  ? " 

"If  the  crowd  were  to  hear  you,"  Ameni  interrupted 
him,  "  each  would  set  himself  on  his  little  throne,  would 
proclaim  the  voice  of  the  god  within  him  as  his  guide, 


UARDA.  93 

tear  the  law  to  shreds,  and  let  the  fragments  fly  to  the 

^aamot^thrSe'c'twhom  thou  thyself  hast  taught 
to  seek  and  to  find  the  One.  The  light  which  I  gaze  on 
and  am  blest,  would  strike  the  crowd-I  do  not  deny  it— 

W1» And  nTvertheless  you  blind  our  disciples  with  the 

dangerous  glare  "  „ 

"  I  am  educating  them  for  future  sages.  . 

"And  that  with  the  hot  overflow  of  a  heart  intoxicated 
with  love  !  " 

"I  stand  before  you,  uninvited,  as  your  teacher,  who 
reproves  you  out  of  the  law,  which  always  and  every  where 
L  wiser  than  the  individual,  whose  '  defender  the  kmg- 
among  his  highest  titles-boasts  of  being,  and  to  which 
the  sa|e  bowl  as  much  as  the  common  man  whom  we 
brin£  up  to  blind  belief-I  stand  before  you  as  your  father, 
who  has  loved  you  from  a  child,  and  expected  from  none 
of  his  disciples  more  than  from  you  ;  and  who  will  there- 
fore neither  lose  you  nor  abandon  the  hope  he  has  set 

UP°  Make  ready  to  leave  our  quiet  house  early  to-morrow 
morning.  You  have  forfeited  your  office  of  teacher.  You 
shall  now  go  into  the  school  of  life,  and  make  yourself  fit 
for  the  honored  rank  of  the  initiated  which,  by  my  error, 
was  bestowed  on  you  too  soon.  You  must  leave  your 
scholars  without  any  leave-taking,  however  hard  it  may 
appear  to  you.  After  the  star  of  Sothis*  has  risen  come 
for  your  instructions.  You  must  in  these  next  months 
try  to  lead  the  priesthood  in  the  temple  of  Hatasu  and 
in  that  post  to  win  back  my  confidence  which  you  have 
thrown  away.  No  remonstrance  ;  to-night  you  will  re- 
ceive my  blessing,  and  our  authority— you  must  greet 
the  rising  sun  from  the  terrace  of  the  new  scene  of  your 
labors.  May  the  Unnameable  stamp  the  law  upon  your 
soul !  " 

Ameni  returned  to  his  room. 

*  The  holy  star  of  Isis,  Sirius,  or  the  dog-star,  whose  course  in  the  time 
of  the  Pharaohs  coincided  with  the  exact  solar  year,  and  served at  a  very 
early  date  as  a  foundation  for  the  reckoning  of  time  among  the  Egyp- 
tians. 


94 


UARDA. 


He  walked  restlessly  to  and  fro. 

On  a  little  table  lay  a  mirror  ;  he  looked  into  the  clear 
metal  pane,  and  laid  it  back  in  its  place  again,  as  if  he  had 
seen  some  strange  and  displeasing  countenance. 

The  events  of  the  last  few  hours  had  moved  him  deeply, 
and  shaken  his  confidence  in  his  unerring  judgment  of 
men  and  things. 

The  priests  on  the  other  bank  of  the  Nile  were  Bent- 
Anat's  counsellors,  and  he  had  heard  the  princess  spoken 
of  as  a  devout  and  gifted  maiden.  Her  incautious  breach  of 
the  sacred  institutions  had  seemed  to  him  to  offer  a  welcome 
opportunity  for  humiliating  a  member  of  the  royal  family. 

Now  he  told  himself  that  he  had  undervalued  this  young 
creature,  that  he  had  behaved  clumsily,  perhaps  foolishly, 
to  her  ;  for  he  did  not  for  a  moment  conceal  from  himself 
that  her  sudden  change  of  demeanor  resulted  much  more 
from  the  warm  flow  of  her  sympathy,  or  perhaps  of  her 
affection,  than  from  any  recognition  oi  her  guilt,  and  he 
could  not  utilize  her  transgression  with  safety  to  himself, 
unless  she  felt  herself  guilty. 

Nor  was  he  of  so  great  a  nature  as  to  be  wholly  free 
from  vanity,  and  his  vanity  had  been  deeply  wounded  by 
the  haughty  resistance  of  the  princess. 

When  he  commanded  Pentaur  to  meet  the  princess  with 
words  of  reproof,  he  had  hoped  to  awaken  his  ambition 
through  the  proud  sense  of  power  over  the  mighty  ones  of 
the  earth. 

And  now  ? 

How  had  his  gifted  admirer,  the  most  hopeful  of  all  his 
disciples,  stood  the  test. 

The  one  ideal  of  his  life,  the  unlimited  dominion  of  the 
priestly  idea  over  the  minds  of  men,  and  of  the  priesthood 
over  the  king  himself,  had  hitherto  remained  unintelligible 
to  this  singular  young  man. 

He  must  learn  to  understand  it. 

"Here,  as  the  least  among  a  hundred  who  are  his 
superiors,  all  the  powers  of  resistance  of  his  soaring  soul 
have  been  roused,"  said  Ameni  to  himself.  '  'In  the 
temple  of  Hatasu  he  will  have  to  rule  over  the  inferior 
orders  of  slaughterers  of  victims  and  incense-burners  ;  and, 
by* requiring  obedience,  will  learn  to  estimate  the  neces- 
sity of  it.  The  rebel,  to  whom  a  throne  devolves,  becomes 
a.  tyrant  1" 


UARDA. 


95 


"  Pentaurs  poet  soul,"  so  he  continued  to  reflect,  "has 
quickly  yielded  itself  a  prisoner  to  the  charm  of  Bent- 
Anat  ;  and  what  woman  could  resist  this  highly  favored 
being!  who  is  radiant  in  beauty  as  Ra-Harmachis,  and  from 
whose  lips  flows  speech  as  sweet  as  Techuti's.  They 
ought  never  to  meet  again,  for  no  tie  must  bind  him  to  the 
house  c*  Rameses." 

Again  he  paced  to  and  fro,  and  murmured  : 

"  How  is  this  ?  rwo  of  my  disciples  have  towered  above 
their  fellows,  in  genius  and  gifts,  like  palm-trees  above  the 
undergrowth.  I  brought  them  up  to  succeed  me,  to  in- 
herit my  labors  and  my  hopes. 

"Mesu  *  fell  away-;  and  Pentaur  may  follow  him. 

"  Must  my  aim  be  an  unworthy  one  because  it  does  not 
attract  the  noblest  ?  Not  so.  Each  feels  himself  made  of 
better  stuff  than  his  companions  in  destiny,  constitutes 
his  own  law,  and  fears  to  see  the  great  expended  in  trifles  ; 
but  I  think  otherwise  ;  like  a  brook  of  ferruginous  water 
from  Lebanon,  I  mix  with  the  great  stream,  and  tinge  it 
with  my  color." 

Thinking  thus  Ameni  stood  still. 

Then  he  called  to  one  of  the  so-called  "holy  fathers," 
his  private  secretary,  and  said  : 

"Draw  up  at  once  a  document,  to  be  sent  to  all  the 
priests'  colleges  in  the  land.  Inform  them  that  the 
daughter  of  Rameses  has  lapsed  seriously  from  the  law, 
and  defiled  herself,  and  direct  that  public — you  hear  me, 
public — prayers  shall  be  put  up  for  her  purification  in 
every  temple.  Lay  the  letter  before  me  to  be  signed  within 
an  hour.  But  no  !  Give  me  your  reed  and  palette  ;  I  will 
myself  draw  up  the  instructions. " 

The  "  holy  father "  gave  him  writing  materials,  and 
retired  into  the  background.  Ameni  muttered  :  "  The 
king  will  do  us  some  unheard-of  violence  !  Well,  this 
writing  may  be  the  first  arrow  in  opposition  to  his  lance." 

*  Mesu  is  the  Egyptian  name  of  Moses,  whom  we  may  consider  as  a 
contemporary  of  Rameses,  under  whose  successor  the  exodus  of  the 
Jews  from  Egypt  took  place. 


96 


UARDA 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  moon  was  risen  over  the  city  of  the  living  that  lay 
opposite  the  Necropolis  of  Thebes. 

The  evening  song  had  died  away  in  the  temples,  that 
stood  about  a  mile  from  the  Nile,  connected  with  each 
other  by  avenues  of  sphinxes  and  pylons  ;  but  in  the 
streets  of  the  city  life  seemed  only  just  really  awake. 

The  coolness,  which  had  succeeded  the  heat  of  the  sum- 
mer day,  tempted  the  citizens  out  into  the  air,  in  front  of 
their  doors  or  on  the  roofs  and  turrets  of  their  houses  ;  or 
at  the  tavern-tables,  where  they  listened  to  the  tales  of  the 
story-tellers  while  they  refreshed  themselves  with  beer, 
wine,  and  the  sweet  juice  of  fruits.  Many  simple  folks 
squatted  in  circular  groups  on  the  ground,  and  joined  in 
the  burden  of  songs  which  were  led  by  an  appointed  singer, 
to  the  sound  of  a  tabor  and  flute. 

To  the  south  of  the  temple  of  Amon  stood  the  king's 
palace,  and  near  it,  in  more  or  less  extensive  gardens,  rose 
the  houses  of  the  magnates  of  the  kingdom,  among  which 
one  was  distinguished  by  its  splendor  and  extent. 

Paaker,  the  king  s  pioneer,  had  caused  it  to  be  erected 
after  the  death  of  his  father,  in  the  place  of  the  more 
homely  dwelling  of  his  ancestors,  when  he  hoped  to  bring 
home  his  cousin,  and  install  her  as  its  mistress. 

A  few  yards  farther  to  the  west  was  another  stately 
though  older  and  less  splendid  house,  which  Mena,  the 
king  s  charioteer,  had  inherited  from  his  father,  and  which 
was  inhabited  by  his  wife  Nefert  and  her  mother  Katuti, 
while  he  himself,  in  the  distant  Syrian  land,  shared  the 
tent  of  the  king,  as  being  his  body  guard. 

jBetore  tne  cloor  of  each  house  stood  servants  bearing 
torches,  and  awaiting  the  long  deferred  return  home  of 
their  masters. 

The  gate,  which  gave  admission  to  Paaker's  plot  of 
ground  through  the  wall  which  surrounded  it,  was  dispro- 
portionately, almost  ostentatiously,  high  and  decorated 
with  various  paintings.    On  the  right  hand  and  on  the 


UARDA. 


97 


left  two  cedar-trunks  were  erected  as  masts  to  carry 
standards ;  he  had  had  them  felled  for  the  purpose  on 
Lebanon,  and  forwarded  by  ship  to  Pelusiumon  the  north- 
east coast  of  Egypt.  Thence  they  were  conveyed  by  the 
Nile  to  Thebes. 

On  passing  thiough  the  gate  one  entered  a  wide,  paved 
courtyard  *  at  the  sides  of  which  walks  extended,  closed 
in  at  the  back,  and  with  roofs  supported  on  slender  painted 
wooden  columns.  Here  stood  the  pioneers  horses  and 
chariots,  here  dwelt  his  slaves,  and  here  the  necessary 
store  of  produce  for  the  month's  requirements  was  kept. 

In  the  further  wall  of  this  store-court  was  a  very  high 
doorway,  that  led  into  a  large  garden  with  rows  of  well- 
tended  trees  and  trellised  vines,  clumps  of  shrubs,  flowers, 
and  beds  of  vegetables.  Palms,  sycamores,  and  acacia- 
trees  ties  pomegranates,  and  jasmine  throve  here  particu- 
larly'well— for  Paaker's  mother,  Setchem,  superintended 
the  labors  of  the  gardeners  ;  and  in  the  large  tank  m  the 
midst  there  was  never  any  lack  of  water  for  watering  the 
beds  and  the  roots  of  the  trees,  as  it  was  always  supplied 
by  two  canals,  into  which  wheels  turned  by  oxen  poured 
water  day  and  night  from  the  Nile-stream. 

On  the  right  side  of  this  plot  of  ground  rose  the  one- 
storied  dwelling  house,  its  length  stretching  into  distant 
perspective,  as  it  consisted  of  a  single  row  of  living  and 
bedrooms.  Almost  every  room  had  its  own  door  that 
opened  into  a  veranda  supported  by  colored  wooden 
columns  and  which  extended  the  whole  length  of  the 
garden  side  of  the  house.  This  building  was  joined  at  a 
right  angle  by  a  row  of  store-rooms,  in  which  the  garden 
produce  in  fruits  and  vegetables,  the  wine-jars,  and  the 
possessions  of  the  house  in  woven  stuffs,  skins,  leather, 
and  other  property  were  kept.  . 

In  a  chamber  of  strong  masonry  lay  safely  locked  up 
the  vast  riches  accumulated  by  Paaker's  father  and  by 
himself ;  in  gold  and  silver  rings,  vessels  and  figures  of 
beasts.  Nor  was  there  lack  of  bars  of  copper  and  of  pre- 
cious stones,  particularly  of  lapis-lazuli  and  malachite. 

*  The  inheritance  of  Paaker  is  described  from  the  beautiful  pictures  of 
houses  and  buildings  in  the  tombs  of  Tel  el  Amarna  (represented  in 
Lepsius'  monuments  of  Egypt).    To  own  a  garden  was  considered  par- 
ticularly lucky. 
7 


98 


UARDA. 


In  the  middle  of  the  garden  stood  a  handsomely  deco- 
rated kiosk,  and  a  chapel  with  images  of  the  gods  ;  in  the 
background  stood  the  statues  of  Paaker  s  ancestors  in  the 
form  of  Osiris  wrapped  in  mummy-cloths.*  The  faces, 
which  were  likenesses,  alone  distinguished  these  statues 
from  each  other. 

The  left  side  of  the  store-yard  was  veiled  in  gloom,  yet 
the  moonlight  revealed  numerous  dark  figures  clothed  only 
with  aprons,  the  slaves  of  the  king's  pioneer,  who  squatted 
on  the  ground  in  groups  of  five  or  six,  or  lay  near  each 
other  on  thin  mats  of  palm-bast,  their  hard  beds. 

Not  far  from  the  gate,  on  the  right  side  of  the  court,  a 
few  lamps  lighted  up  a  group  of  dusky  men,  the  officers 
of  Paaker's  household,  who  wore  short,  shirt-shaped  white 
garments,  and  who  sat  on  a  carpet  round  a  table  hardly 
two  feet  high.  They  were  eating  their  evening  meal, 
consisting  of  a  roasted  antelope,  and  large  flat  cakes  of 
bread.  Slaves  waited  on  them  and  filled  their  earthen 
beakers  with  yellow  beer.  The  steward  cut  up  the  great 
roast  on  the  table,  offered  the  intendant  of  the  gardens  a 
piece  of  antelope-leg,  and  said  : 

m  "My  arms  ache  ;  the  mob  of  slaves  get  more  and  more 
dirty  and  refractory." 

"  I  notice  it  in  the  palm-trees,"  said  the  gardener,  f<  you 

*The  justified  dead  became  Osiris;  that  is  to  say,  attained  to  the 
fullest  union  (Henosis)  with  the  divinity.  The  Osiris-myth  has  been  re- 
stored in  all  its  parts  from  the  literary  remains  of  the  Egyptians. 
Plutarch  records  it  in  detail.  Omitting  minor  matters  it  is  as  follows  : 
Isis  and  Osiris  reigned  blissful  and  benignant  in  the  Nile  valley  ;  Typhon 
(Seth)  induced  Osiris  to  lay  himself  in  a  chest,  locked  it  with  his  seventy 
companions,  and  set  it  on  the  Nile,  which  carried  it  north,  to  the  sea. 
It  was  cast  on  shore  at  Byblos.  Isis  sought  it  lamenting,  found  it,  and 
brought  it  back  to  Egypt.  While  she  was  seeking  for  her  son  Horus, 
Typhon  found  the  body,  cut  it  into  fourteen  parts,  and  strewed  them 
throughout  the  land.  Horus  having  meanwhile  grown  up,  fights  with 
Typhon,  and  conquers  him,  and  restores  to  his  mother  her  husband,  and 
to  his  father — who  during  his  apparent  death  had  continued  to  reign  in 
the  under-world— his  earthly  throne.  This  fanciful  myth  personified 
not  only  the  cycle  of  the  vegetative  life  of  the  earth,  but  also  the  path  of 
the  sun,  and  the  fate  of  the  human  soul.  The  procreative  power  of 
nature,  and  the  overflow  of  the  Nile  come  from  drought,  the  light  of  the 
sun  from  darkness;  man  passes  through  death  to  life,  the  principle  of 
good  comes  from  evil.  Truth  appears  to  be  destroyed  by  Lies ;  yet 
each  triumphs  in  the  spring  (the  time  of  the  inundations) — in  the  morn- 
ing—in the  other  world — or  in  the  day  of  retribution — as  Osiris  conquered 
through  Horus, 


UARDA. 


99 


want  so  many  cudgels  that  their  crowns  will  soon  be  as 
bare  as  a  moulting;  bird. "  # 

4  4  We  should  do  as  the  master  does,  said  the  head- 
groom,  "and  get  sticks  of  ebony— they  last  a  hundred 

years."  , 

"At  any  rate  longer  than  men's  bones,  laughed  the 
chief  neat-herd,  who  had  come  into  town  from  the  pio- 
neer's country  estate,  bringing  with  him  animals  for  sacri- 
fice, butter  and  cheese.  "If  we  were  all  to  follow  the 
master's  example,  we  should  soon  have  none  but  cripples 
in  the  servants'  house." 

"  Out  there  lies  the  lad  whose  collar-bone  he  broke  yes- 
terday," said  the  steward,  ' '  it  is  a  pity,  for  he  was  a  clever 
mat-plaiter.    The  old  lord  hit  softer. " 

"You  ought  to  know!"    cried  a  small  voice,  that 
sounded  mockingly,  behind  the  feasters. 

They  looked  and  laughed  when  they  recognized  the 
strange  guest,  who  had  approached  them  unobserved. 

The  new-comer  was  a  deformed  little  man  about  as  big 
as  a  five-year  old  boy,  with  a  big  head  and  oldish  but  un- 
commonly sharply-cut  features. 

The  noblest  Egyptians  kept  house-dwarfs  for  sport,  and 
this  little  wight  served  the  wife  of  Mena  in  this  capacity. 
He  was  called  Nemu,  or  "the  dwarf,"  and  his  sharp 
tongue  made  him  much  feared,  though  he  was  a  favorite, 
for  he  passed  for  a  very  clever  fellow  and  was  a  good  tale- 
teller. t.  ■ 

"Make  room  for  me,  my  lords,"  said  the  little  man. 
"I  take  very  little  room,  and  your  beer  and  roast  is  in  lit- 
tle danger  from  me,  for  my  maw  is  no  bigger  than  a  fly's 
head."  „  . 

"  But  your  gall  is  as  big  as  that  of  a  Nile-horse,  cried 

the  cook. 

"It  grows,"  said  the  dwarf,  laughing,  "  when  a  turnspit 
and  spoon-wielder  like  you  turns  up.  There— I  will  sit 
here." 

"You  are  welcome,"  said  the  steward,  "what  do  you 
bring?  " 
"Myself." 

"Then  you  bring  nothing  great. " 

"Else  I  should  not  suit  you  either  !  "  retorted  the  dwarf. 
"Bt't  seriously,  my  lady  mother,  the  noble  Katuti,  and 


IOO 


UARDA. 


the  regent,  who  just  now  is  visiting  us,  sent  me  here  to 
ask  you  whether  Paaker  is  not  yet  returned.  He  accom- 
panied the  princess  and  Nefert  to  the  City  of  the  Dead, 
and  the  ladies  are  not  yet  come  in.  We  begin  to  be  anx- 
ious, for  it  is  already  late." 

The  steward  looked  up  at  the  starry  sky  and  said  :  ' '  The 
moon  is  already  tolerably  high,  and  my  lord  meant  to  be 
home  before  sundown." 

* '  The  meal  was  ready, "  sighed  the  cook.  ' ' 1  shall  have 
to  go  to  work  again  if  he  does  not  remain  out  all  night." 

"  How  should  he  ?  "  asked  the  steward.  uHe  is  with 
the  Princess  Bent-Anat. " 

"And  my  mistress,"  added  the  dwTarf, 

"What  will  they  say  to  each  other,"  laughed  the  gar- 
dener ;  "your  chief  litter-bearer  declared  that  yesterday 
on  the  way  to  the  City  of  the  Dead  they  did  not  speak  ? 
word  to  each  other." 

"Can  you  blame  the  lord  if  he  is  angry  with  the  lady 
who  was  betrothed  to  him,  and  then  was  wed  to  another? 
When  I  think  of  the  moment  when  he  learned  Nefert  s 
breach  of  faith  I  turn  hot  and  cold." 

"Care  the  less  for  that,"  sneered  the  dwarf,  "since 
you  must  be  hot  in  summer  and  cold  in  winter. " 

"It  is  not  evening  all  day,"  cried  the  head  groom. 
"Paaker  never  forgets  an  injury,  and  we  shall  live  to  see 
him  pay  Mena — high  as  he  is — for  the  affront  he  has 
offered  him." 

"My  lady  Katuti,"  interrupted  Nemu,  "stores  up  the 
arrears  of  her  son-in-law." 

"Besides,  she  has  long  wished  to  renew  the  old  friend- 
ship with  your  house,  and  the  regent  too  preaches  peace. 
Give  me  a  piece  of  bread,  steward.    I  am  hungry  !  " 

"  The  sacks,  into  which  Mena's  arrears  flow,  seem  to  be 
empty,"  laughed  the  cook. 

"Empty  !  empty  !  much  like  your  wit  !  "  answered  the 
dwarf.  "  Give  me  a  bit  of  roast  meat,  steward  ;  and  you 
slaves  bring  me  a  drink  of  beer." 

"You  just  now  said  your  maw  was  no  bigger  than  a 
fly's  head,"  cried  the  cook,  "and  now  you  devour  meat 
like  the  crocodiles  in  the  sacred  tank  ofSeeland.*  You 

*The  Modern  Fajum,  where,  in  the  temple  of  the  God  Sebek,  sacred 
crocodiles  were  kept  and  decorated,  and  expensively  fed. 


UARDA.  101 

m.mt  come  from  a  world  of  upside-down,  where  the  men 
as  sSl  assies,  and  the  flies  as  big  as  the  glants  of 

th<<  Yet' I  might  be  much  bigger,"  mumbled  the  dwarf 

-There  take  it,  you  glutton,  but  let  out  your  girdle 
said  Ae  steward  laihinf,  •  •  I  had  cut  the  slice  for  myself, 

better  than  any  haruspex  what  is  inside  a  man. 
«  How  is  that  ?  "  cried  the  gardener.  ;j 
"Onlv  trv  to  display   your  wisdom,     laughed,  tne 

stewed;  « for,  1? you  want  (o  talk,  you  must  at  least  leave 

^-TheCo  may  be  combined  "said  the  dwarf.  "Listen 
then  '  A  hooked  nose,  which  I  compare  to  a  vulture  s 
beak,'  is  never  found  together  with  a  submissive  spirit. 
Think  of  the  Pharaoh  and  all  his  haughty  race.  The  re- 
lent on  the  contrary,  has  a  straight,  well-shaped  medium- 
Sea  nose  n°ke  thcStatae  of  Amon  in  the  temple,  and  he 
is  an  upright  soul,  and  as  good  as  the  gods  tie  s 
neither  Shearing  nor  submissive  beyond  just  what  is 
rigSThe  holds  netther  with  the  great  nor  yet  with  he 
mean,  but  with  men  of  our  stamp.     There  s  the  king 

f0- A  king  of  noses!"  exclaimed  the  cook  "I  prefer  the 
eagle  Rameses.    But  what  do  you  say  to  the  nose  of  your 

"".T^deHcate  and  slender  and  moves  with  every 
thought  like  the  leaves  of  flowers  in  a  breath  of  wind,  and 
her  heart  is  exactly  like  it." 

"  And  Paaker  ?  "  asked  the  head  groom. 

<<  He  has  a  large  short  nose  with  wide  open .nostril 
When  Seth  whirls  up  the  sand,  and  a  grain  of  it  flies  up 
his  nose,  he  waxes  angry-so  it  is  Paaker's  nose,  and  that 
only  which  is  answerable  for  all  your  blue  bruises.  His 
mother  Setchem,  the  sister  of  my  lady  Katuti,  has  a  little 

roundish  soft  "  , 

*  £efa,  the  goddess  of  the  inundation. 


UARDA. 

102 


K  yluS  the  sky %  that  the  atari  may  remain  st.ck.ng 

you  know"  Sen  and  nose," 

-fthf^.^hSfiaSnS 
?>Q I  dVvta  V    he  Lad  groom  hastened  toward  Paaker 

't/fore^akThad  reached" me  garden  gate  from  the 
inffeySkves  and  officers  immediately  followed  his  ex- 

rably  knit  the  human  individual  to  the  divinity 
earthly  representatives  the  priesthood  remained 
For  many  minutes  the Aord  the  sacred 

on  their  knees  in  silence,  their  e>  es  nxea _t > 
Star,  and  listening  to  the  pious  chant  of  the  priests. 


UARDA.  103 


As  it  died  away  Paaker  rose.  All  around  him  still  lay 
on  the  earth;  only  one  naked  figure,  strongly  lighted  by 
the  clear  moonlight,  stood  motionless  by  a  pillar  near  the 

Sl  ThJpiree'rgavea  sign,  the  attendants  rose  ;  but  Paaker 
went  with  hasty  steps  to  the  man  who  had  disdained  the 
Tct  of  devotion,  which  he  had  so  earnestly  performed,  and 

"^Steward,  a  hundred  strokes  on  the  soles  of  the  feet  of 

th  The  officer  thus  addressed  bowed  and  said  :    "My  lord 
the  surgeon  commanded  the  mat-weaver  not  to  move  an 
he  cannot  lift  his  arm.    He  is  suffering  great  pain.  Thou 
didst  break  his  collar-bone  yesterday. 

«  It  served  him  right !  "  said  Paaker,  raising  his  voice  so 
much  that  the  injured  man  could  not  fail  to  hear  it.  Then 
he  turned  his  back  upon  him,  and  entered  the  garden  ;  here 
he  called  the  chief  butler  and  said  :  <■<  Give  the  slaves  beer 
for  their  night  draught— to  all  of  them,  and  plenty. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  stood  before  his  mother,  whom 
he  found  on  the  roof  of  the  house,  which  was  decorated 
with  leafy  plants,  just  as  she  gave  her  two-years  -old 
granddaughter,  the  child  of  her  youngest  son  into  the 
arms  of  her  nurse,  that  she  might  take  her  to  bed. 
Paaker  greeted  the  worthy  matron  with  reverence. 
She  was  a  woman  of  a  friendly,  homely  aspect ;  several 
little  dogs  were  fawning  on  her  feet.    Her  son  put  aside 
the  leaping  favorites  of  the  widow,  whom  they  amused 
through  many  long  hours  of  loneliness   and  turned  to 
take  the  child  in  his  arms  from  those  of  the  attendant 
But  the  little  one  struggled  with  such  loud  cries,  and 
could  not  be  pacified,  that  Paaker  set  it  down  on  the 
ground  and  involuntarily  exclaimed  : 
"  The  naughty  little  thing  !  " 

"  She  has  been  sweet  and  good  the  whole  afternoon, 
said  his  mother  Setchem.     ' '  She  sees  you  so  seldom. 

"May  be,"  replied  Paaker;  "still  I  know  this— the 
dogs  love  me,  but  no  child  will  come  to  me. 

"You  have  such  hard  hands."  . 

"Take  the  squalling  brat  away,'   said  Paaker  to  the 
nurse.     "Mother,  I  want  to  speak  to  you. 

Setchem  quieted  the  child,  gave  it  many  kisses,  and  sent 


io4 


UARDA. 


it  to  bed  ;  then  she  went  up  to  her  son,  stroked  his  cheeks 

and  said  : 

"If  the  little  one  were  your  own,  she  would  go  to  you 
at  once,  and  teach  you  that  a  child  is  the  greatest  blessing 
which  the  gods  bestow  on  us  mortals." 

Paaker  smiled  and  said  :  "  I  know  what  you  are  aiming 
at— but  leave  it  for  the  present,  for  I  have  something  im- 
portant to  communicate  to  you." 

' '  Well?  "  asked  Setchem. 

"  To-day  for  the  first  time  since — you  know  when,  I 
have  spoken  to  Nefert.  The  past  may  be  forgotten.  You 
long  for  your  sister;  go  to  her,  I  have  nothing  more  to 
say  against  it." 

Setchem  looked  at  her  son  with  undisguised  astonish- 
ment ;  her  eyes,  which  easily  filled  with  tears,  now  over- 
flowed, and  she  hesitatingly  asked:  "Can  I  believe  my 
ears  ;  child,  have  you  " 

<'l  have  a  wish,"  said  Paaker  firmly,  "that  you  should 
knit  once  more  the  old  ties  of  affection  with  your  relations  ; 
the  estrangement  has  lasted  long  enough." 

"Much  too  long  !  "  cried  Setchem. 

The  pioneer  looked  in  silence  at  the  ground,  and  obeyed 
his  mother's  signs  to  sit  down  beside  her. 

"I  knew,"  she  said,  taking  his  hand,  "that  this  day 
would  bring  us  joy  ;  for  I  dreamed  of  your  father  in  Osiris, 
and  when  I  was  being  carried  to  the  temple,  I  was  met, 
first  by  a  white  cowT,  and  then  by  a  wedding  procession! 
The  white  ram  of  Amon,  too,  touched  the  wheat  cakes 
that  I  offered  him."* 

"Those  are  lucky  presages,"  said  Paaker,  in  a  tone  of 
conviction. 

"And  let  us  hasten  to  seize  with  gratitude  that  which 
the  gods  set  before  us, "  cried  Setchem,  with  joyful  emotion. 
"I  will  go  to-morrow  to  my  sister  and  tell  her  that  we 
shall  live  together  in  our  old  affection,  and  share  both 
good  and  evil ;  we  are  both  of  the  same  race,  and  I  know 
that,  as  order  and  cleanliness  preserve  a  house  from  ruin 
and  rejoice  the  stranger,  so  nothing  but  unity  can  keep  up 
the  happiness  of  a  family  and  its  appearance  before  people. 
What  is  bygone  is  bygone,  and  let  it  be  forgotten.  There 

*  It  boded  death  to  Germanicus  when  the  Apis  refused  to  eat  out  of 
his  hand. 


UARDA.  105 

are  many  women  in  Thebes  beside  Nefert,  and  a  hundred 
nobles  in  the  land  would  esteem  themselves  happy  to  win 
you  for  a  son-in-law."  . 

Paaker  rose,  and  began  thoughtfully  pacing  the  broad 
space,  while  Setchem  went  on  speaking.  # 

"I  know,"  she  said,  "  that  I  have  touched  a  wound  m 
thy  heart ;  but  it  is  already  closing,  and  it  will  heal  when 
you  are  happier  even  than  the  charioteer  Mena,  and  need 
no  longer  hate  him.  Nefert  is  good,  but  she  is  delicate 
and  not  clever,  and  scarcely  equal  to  the  management  of 
so  lar^e  a  household  as  ours.  Ere  long  I  too  shall  be 
wrapped  in  mummy-cloths,  and  then  if  duty  calls  you  into 
Syria  some  prudent  housewife  must  take  my  place.  It  is 
no  small  matter.  Your  grandfather  Assa  often  would  say 
that  a  house  well-conducted  in  every  detail  was  the  mark 
of  a  family  owning  an  unspotted  name,  and  living  with 
wise  liberality  and  secure  solidity,  in  which  each  had  his 
assigned  place,  his  allotted  duty  to  fulfill,  and  his  faxed 
rights  to  demand.  How  often  have  I  prayed  to  the 
Hathors  that  they  may  send  you  a  wife  after  my  own 

he^A  Setchem  I  shall  never  find  !  "  said  Paaker,  kissing 
his  mother's  forehead  ;  "women  of  your  sort  are  dying 

°U"  Flatterer  !  "  laughed  Setchem,  shaking  her  finger  at  her 
son  "But  it  is  true.  Those  who  are  now  growing  up 
dress  and  smarten  themselves  with  stuffs  from  Kaft  * 
mix  their  language  with  Syrian  words,  and  leave  the 
steward  and  housekeeper  free  when  they  themselves  ought 

to  command.    Even  my  sister  Katuti,  and  Nefert  

"Nefert  is  different  from  other  women,  interrupted 
Paaker,  "and  if  you  had  brought  her  up  she  would 
know  how  to  manage  a  house  as  well  as  how  to  ornament 

lt  Setchem  looked  at  her  son  in  surprise  ;  then  she  said, 
half  to  herself:  "Yes,  yes,  she  is  a  sweet  child ;  it  is 
impossible  for  any  one  to  be  angry  with  her  who  looks 
into  her  eyes.  And  yet  I  was  cruel  to  her  because  you 
were  hurt  by  her,  and  because— but  you  know  But  now 
you  have  forgiven,  I  forgive  her,  willingly  ;  her  and  her 
husband." 

*  Phoenicia. 


io6 


UARDA. 


Paaker's  brow  clouded,  and  while  he  paused  in  front  of 
his  mother  he  said  with  all  the  peculiar  harshness  of  his 
voice  : 

"  He  shall  pine  away  in  the  desert,  and  the  hyenas  of  the 
north  shall  tear  his  unburied  corpse. " 

At  these  words  Setchem  covered  her  face  with  her  veil, 
and  clasped  her  hands  tightly  over  the  amulets  hanging 
round  her  neck.    Then  she  said  softly  : 

"  How  terrible  you  can  be  !  I  know  well  that  you  hate 
the  charioteer,  for  I  have  seen  the  seven  arrows  over  your 
couch  over  which  is  written  '  Death  to  Mena.'  That 
is  a  Syrian  charm  which  a  man  turns  against  any  one 
whom  he  desires  to  destroy.  How  black  you  look  !  Yes, 
it  is  a  charm  that  is  hateful  to  the  gods,  and  that  gives 
the  Evil  one  power  over  him  that  uses  it.  Leave  it  to 
them  to  punish  the  criminal,  for  Osiris  withdraws  his 
favor  from  those  who  choose  the  fiend  for  their  ally/' 

"  My  sacrifices/'  replied  Paaker,  "  secure  me  the  favor 
of  the  gods  ;  but  Mena  behaved  to  me  like  a  vile  robber, 
and  I  only  return  to  him  the  evil  that  belongs  to  him. 
Enough  of  this  !  and  if  you  love  me  never  again  utter  the 
name  of  my  enemy  before  me.  I  have  forgiven  Nefert 
and  her  mother — that  may  satisfy  you." 

Setchem  shook  her  head,  and  said  :  "What  will  it  lead 
to!  The  war  cannot  last  forever,  and  if  Mena  returns  the 
reconciliation  of  to-day  will  turn  to  all  the  more  bitter 
enmity.  I  see  only  one  remedy.  Follow  my  advice,  and 
let  me  find  you  a  wife  worthy  of  you." 

"Not  now  !  "  exclaimed  Paaker,  impatiently.  "In  a 
few  days  I  must  go  again  into  the  enemy's  country,  and 
do  not  wish  to  leave  my  wife,  like  Mena,  to  lead  the  life 
of  a  widow  during  my  existence.  Why  urge  it?  my 
brother's  wife  and  children  are  with  you — that  might 
satisfy  you. " 

"  The  gods  know  how  I  love  them,"  answered  Setchem  ; 
"but  your  brother  Horus  is  the  younger,  and  you  the 
elder,  to  whom  the  inheritance  belongs.  Your  little  niece 
is  a  delightful  plaything,  but  in  your  son  I  should  see  at 
once  the  future  stay  of  our  race,  the  future  head  of  the 
family  ;  brought  up  to  my  mind  and  your  father's  ;  for 
all  is  sacred  to  me  that  my  dead  husband  wished.  He 
rejoiced  in  your  early  betrothal  to  Nefert,  and  hoped 


UARDA. 


107 


that  a  son  of  his  eldest  son  should  continue  the  race  of 
Assa. " 

"It  shall  be  by  no  fault  of  mine  that  any  wish  of  his 
remains  unfulfilled.  The  stars  are  high,  mother  ;  sleep 
well,  and  if  to-morrow  you  visit  Nefert  and  your  sister, 
say  to  them  that  the  doors  of  my  house  are  open  to  them. 
But  stay  !  Katuti's  steward  has  offered  to  sell  a  herd  of 
cattle  to  ours,  although  the  stock  on  Mena's  land  can  be 
but  small.    What  does  that  mean  ?  " 

"You  know  my  sister,''  replied  Setchem.  "She  man- 
ages Mena's  possessions,  has  many  requirements,  tries  to 
vie  with  the  greatest  in  splendor,  sees  the  governor  often  in 
her  house,  her  son  is  no  doubt  extravagant — and  so  the 
most  necessary  things  may  often  be  wanting." 

Paaker  shrugged  his  shoulders,  once  more  embraced  his 
mother  and  left  her. 

Soon  after,  he  was  standing  in  the  spacious  room  in 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  sit  and  to  sleep  when  he  was 
in  Thebes.  The  walls  of  this  room  were  whitewashed 
and  decorated  with  pious  sentences  in  hieroglyphic  writ- 
ing, which  framed  in  the  door  and  the  window  opening 
into  the  garden. 

In  the  middle  of  the  further  wall  was  a  couch  in  the 
form  of  a  lion.  The  upper  end  of  it  imitated  a  lion's 
head,  and  the  foot,  its  curling  tail ;  a  finely  dressed  lion's 
skin  was  spread  over  the  bed,  and  a  head-rest  of  ebony, 
decorated  with  pious  texts,  stood  on  a  high  footstep, 
ready  for  the  sleeper. 

Above  the  bed  various  costly  weapons  and  whips  were 
elegantly  displayed,  and  below  them  the  seven  arrows 
over  which  Setchem  had  read  the  words  1 '  Death  to 
Mena."  They  were  written  across  a  sentence  which  en- 
joined feeding  the  hungry,  giving  drink  to  the  thirsty, 
and  clothing  the  naked  ;  with  loving  kindness  alike  to  the 
great  and  the  humble. 

A  niche  by  the  side  of  the  bed-head  was  closed  with  a 
curtain  of  purple  stuff. 

In  each  corner  of  the  room  stood  a  statue  ;  three  of 
them  symbolized  the  triad  of  Thebes — Amon,  Muth,  and 
Chunsu,  and  the  fourth  the  dead  father  of  the  pioneer. 
In  front  of  each  was  a  small  altar  for  offerings,  with  a 
hollow  in  it,  in  which  was  an  odoriferous  essence.    On  a 


lo8 


UARDA. 


wooden  stand  were  little  images  of  the  gods  and  amulets 
in  great  number,  and  in  several  painted  chests  lay  the 
clothes,  the  ornaments  and  the  papers  of  the  master.  In 
the  midst  of  the  chamber  stood  a  table  and  several  stool- 
shaped  seats. 

When  Paaker  entered  the  room  he  found  it  lighted  with 
lamps,  and  a  large  dog  sprang  joyfully  to  meet  him.  He 
let  him  spring  upon  him,  threw  him  to  the  ground,  let 
him  once  more  rush  upon  him,  and  then  kissed  his  clever 
head. 

Before  his  bed  an  old  negro  of  powerful  build  lay  in 
deep  sleep.  Paaker  shoved  him  with  his  foot  and  called 
to  him  as  he  awoke  : 

"  I  am  hungry." 

The  gray-headed  black  man  rose  slowly  and  left  the 
room. 

As  soon  as  he  was  alone  Paaker  drew  the  philter  from 
his  girdle,  looked  at  it  tenderly,  and  put  it  in  a  box,  in 
which  there  were  several  flasks  of  holy  oils  for  sacrifice. 

He  was  accustomed  every  evening  to  fill  the  hollows  in 
the  altars  with  fresh  essences,  and  to  prostrate  himself  in 
prayer  before  the  images  of  the  gods. 

To-day  he  stood  before  the  statue  of  his  father,  kissed 
its  feet,  and  murmured  :  "  Thy  will  shall  be  done.  The 
woman  whom  thou  didst  intend  for  me  shall  indeed  be 
mine — thy  eldest  son's." 

Then  he  walked  to  and  fro  and  thought  over  the  events 
of  the  day. 

At  last  he  stood  still,  with  his  arms  crossed,  and  looked 
defiantly  at  the  holy  images ;  like  a  traveler  who  drives 
away  a  false  guide,  and  thinks  to  find  the  road  by  him- 
self. 

His  eye  fell  on  the  arrows  over  his  bed  ;  he  smiled,  and, 
striking  his  broad  breast  with  his  fist,  he  exclaimed,  "  I — 


His  hound,  who  thought  his  master  meant  to  call  him, 
rushed  up  to  him.     He  pushed  him  off  and  said  : 

"  If  you  meet  a  hyena  in  the  desert,  you  fall  upon  it 
without  waiting  till  it  is  touched  by  my  lance — and  if  the 
gods,  my  masters,  delay,  I  myself  will  defend  my  right ; 
but  thou,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the  image  of  his 
father,  "  thou  wilt  support  me,  " 


UARDA.  109 

This  soliloquy  was  interrupted  by  the  slaves  who 
brought  in  his  meal.  # 

Paaker  glanced  at  the  various  dishes  which  the  cook 
had  prepared  for  him,  and  asked:  -How  often  shall  I 
command  that  not  a  variety,  but  only  one  large  dish  shall 
be  dressed  for  me  ?    And  the  wine  ? 

"Thou  art  used  never  to  touch  it,   answered  the  old 

^^But  to-day  I  wish   for  some,"  said  the  pioneer. 
"Bring  one  of  the  old  jars  of  red  wine  of  Kakem."  * 

The  slaves  looked  at  each  other  in  astonishment;  the 
wine  was  brought,  and  Paaker  emptied  beaker  after  beaker. 
When  the  servants  had  left  him,  the  boldest  among  them 
said  :  "Usually  the  master  eats  like  a  lion,  and  drinks  like 
a  midge,  but  to-day  "  .  .- 

"Hold  your  tongue!"  cried  his  companion,  come 
into  the  court,  for  Paaker  has  sent  us  out  beer.  The 
Hathors  must  have  met  him." 

The  occurrences  of  the  day  must  indeed  have  taken  deep 
hold  on  the  inmost  soul  of  the  pioneer  ;  for  he,  the  most 
sober  of  all  the  warriors  of  Rameses,  to  whom  intoxication 
was  unknown,  and  who  avoided  the  banquets  of  his  asso- 
ciates—now sat  at  the  midnight  hours,  alone  at  his  table, 
and  toped  till  his  weary  head  grew  heavy. 

He  collected  himself,  went  toward  his  couch  and  drew 
the  curtain  which  concealed  the  niche  at  the  head  of  the 
bed.  A  female  figure,  with  the  head-dress  and  attributes 
of  the  Goddess  Hathor,  made  of  painted  limestone,  re- 
vealed  itself 

Her   countenance  had   the  features   of  the   wife  of 

Mena.  -  '  ,  ,  , 

The  king,  four  years  since,  had  ordered  a  sculptor  to 
execute  a  sacred  image  with  the  lovely  features  of  the 
newly-married  bride  of  his  charioteer,  and  Paaker  had 
succeeded  in  having  a  duplicate  made.  ( 

He  now  knelt  down  on  the  couch,  gazed  on  the  image 
with  moist  eyes,  looked  cautiously  around  to  see  if  he 
was  alone,  leaned  forward,  pressed  a  kiss  to  the  delicate, 
cold  stone  lips  ;  laid  down  and  went  to  sleep  without 
*  A  place  not  far  from  the  Pyramid  of  Saqqarah  in  the  Necropolis  of 
Memphis,  where,  even  in  remote  times,  there  must  have  been  a  wine- 
press,  as  the  red  wine  of  Kakem  (Kochome  ?)  is  often  mentioned. 


I  10 


UARDA. 


undressing  himself,  and  leaving  the  lamps  to  burn  them- 
selves out. 

Restless  dreams  disturbed  his  spirit,  and  when  the  dawn 
grew  gray,  he  screamed  out,  tormented  by  a  hideous 
vision,  so  pitifully,  that  the  old  negro,  who  had  laid  him- 
self near  the  dog  at  the  foot  of  his  bed,  sprang  up  alarmed, 
and  while  the  dog  howled,  called  him  by  his  name  to  wake 
him. 

Paaker  awoke  with  a  dull  headache.  The  vision  wThich 
had  tormented  him,  stood  vividly  before  his  mind,  and  he 
endeavored  to  retain  it  that  he  might  summon  a  haruspex 
to  interpret  it.  After  the  morbid  fancies  of  the  preceding 
evening  he  felt  sad  and  depressed. 

The  morning-hymn  rang  into  his  room  with  a  warning 
voice  from  the  temple  of  Amon  ;  he  cast  off  evil  thoughts, 
and  resolved  once  more  to  resign  the  conduct  of  his  fate  to 
the  gods,  and  to  renounce  all  the  arts  of  magic. 

As  he  was  accustomed,  he  got  into  the  bath  that  was 
ready  for  him.  While  splashing  in  the  tepid  water  he 
thought  with  ever  increasing  eagerness  of  Nefert  and  of 
the  philter  which  at  first  he  had  meant  not  to  offer  to  her, 
but  which  actually  was  given  to  her  by  his  hand,  and 
which  might  by  this  time  have  begun  to  exercise  its 
charm. 

Love  placed  rosy  pictures — hatred  set  blood-red  images 
before  his  eyes.  He  strove  to  free  himself  from  the  temp- 
tations, which  more  and  more  tightly  closed  in  upon  him, 
but  it  was  with  him  as  with  a  man  who  has  fallen  into  a 
bog,  who,  the  more  vehemently  he  tries  to  escape  from  the 
mire,  sinks  the  deeper. 

As  the  sun  rose,  so  rose  his  vital  energy  and  his  self- 
confidence,  and  when  he  prepared  to  quit  his  dwelling,  in 
his  most  costly  clothing,  he  had  arrived  once  more  at  the 
decision  of  the  night  before,  and  had  again  resolved  to 
fight  for  his  purpose,  without — and  if  need  were — against 
the  gods. 

The  Mohar  had  chosen  his  road,  and  he  never  turned 
back  when  once  he  had  begun  a  journey. 


UARDA. 


Ill 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Tt  was  noon  :  the  rays  of  the  sun  found  no  way  into 
the  narrow  shady  streets  of  the  eity  of  Thebes,  but  they 
blazed  with  scorching  heat  on  the  broad  dyke-road  which 
led  to  the  king's  castle,  and  which  at  this  hour  was  usually 
almost  deserted.  . ,     .  _  „i 

To-day  it  was   thronged   with   foot-passengers  and 
chariots,  with  riders  and  litter-bearers 

Here  and  there  negroes  poured  water  on  the  road  out 
of  skins,  but  the  dust  was  so  deep  that,  in  spite  of  this,  it 
shrouded  the  streets  and  the  passengers  in  a  dry  cloud 
which  extended  not  only  over  the  city,  but  down  to  the 
harbor  where  the  boats  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Necropo- 
lis landed  their  freight. 

The  City  of  the  Pharaohs  was  in  unwonted  agitation, 
for  the  storm-swift  breath  of  rumor  had  spread  some  news 
which  excited  both  alarm  and  hope  in  the  huts  of  the 
poor  as  well  as  in  the  palaces  of  the  great. 

In  the  early  morning  three  mounted  messengers  had 
arrived  from  the  king's  camp  with  heavy  letter-bags,*  and 
had  dismounted  at  the  Regent's  palace. 

As  after  a  long  drought  the  inhabitants  of  a  village  gaze 
up  at  the  black  thunder-cloud  that  gathers  above  their 
heads  promising  the  refreshing  rain-but  that  may 
also  send  the  kindling  lightning-flash  f  the  destroying 
hail-storm-so  the  hopes  and  the  fears  of  the  citizens  were 
centered  on  the  news  which  came  but  rarely  and  at 
irregular  intervals  from  the  scene  of  war;  for  there  was 
scarcely  a  house  in  the  huge  city  which  had  not  sent  a 
father,  a  son,  or  a  relative  to  the  fighting  hosts  of  the 
kine  in  the  distant  northeast. 

And  though  the  couriers  from  the  camp  were  much. 

Egyptiens  de  l'epoque  Pharaonique. 


r  12 


UARDA. 


oftener  the  heralds  of  tears  than  of  joy  ;  though  the  writ- 
ten rolls  which  they  brought  told  more  often  of  death  and 
wounds  than  of  promotion,  royal  favors,  and  conquered 
spoils,  yet  they  were  expected  with  soul-felt  longing  and 
received  with  shouts  of  joy. 

Great  and  small  hurried  after  their  arrival  to  the  Regents 
palace,  and  the  scribes— who  distributed  the  letters  and 
read  the  news  which  was  intended  for  public  communica- 
tion, and  the  lists  of  those  who  had  fallen  or  perished — 
were  closely  besieged  with  inquirers. 

Man  has  nothing  harder  to  endure  than  uncertainty,  and 
generally,  when  in  suspense,  looks  forward  to  bad  rather 
than  to  good  news.  And  the  bearers  of  ill  ride  faster  than 
the  messengers  of  weal. 

The  Regent  Ani  resided  in  a  building  adjoining  the 
king's  palace.  His  business-quarters  surrounded  an  im- 
mensely wide  court,  and  consisted  of  a  great  number  of 
rooms  opening  into  this  court,  in  which  numerous  scribes 
worked  with  their  chief.  On  the  farther  side  was  a  large, 
veranda-like  hall  open  at  the  front,  but  with  a  roof  sup- 
ported by  pillars. 

Here  Ani  was  accustomed  to  hold  courts  of  justice,  and 
to  receive  officers,  messengers,  and  petitioners. 

To-day  he  sat,  visible  to  all  comers,  on  a  costly  throne 
in  this  hall,  surrounded  by  his  numerous  followers,  and 
overlooking  the  crowd  of  people  w^hom  the  guardians  of 
the  peace*  guided  with  long  staves,  admitting  them  in 
troops  into  the  court  of  the  "High  Gate,"  and  then  again 
conducting  them  out. 

What  he  saw  and  heard  was  nothing  joyful,  for  from 
each  group  surrounding  a  scribe  arose  a  cry  of  woe.  Few 
and  far  between  were  those  who  had  to  tell  of  the  rich 
booty  that  had  fallen  to  their  friends. 

An  invisible  web  woven  of  wailing  and  tears  seemed  to 
envelop  the  assembly. 

Here  men  were  lamenting  and  casting  dust  upon  their 
heads,  there  women  were  rending  their  clothes,  shrieking 
loudly  and  crying  as  they  waved  their  veils  :  "Oh,  my 
husband!  oh,  my  father!  oh,  my  brother  !  " 

Parents  who  had  received  the  news  of  the  death  of  their 
son  fell  on  each  other's  necks  weeping;  old  men  plucked 
out  their  gray  hair  and  beard  ;  young  women  beat  their 
*  Presumably  a  kind  of  police.—  Translator. 


UARDA.  Ir3 


foreheads  and  breasts,  or  implored  the  scribes  who  read 
out  the  lists  to  let  them  see  for  themselves  the  name  of 
the  beloved  one  who  was  forever  torn  from  them 

The  passionate  stirring  of  a  bouI,  wheftj  itte  ^ 
result  of  joy  or  of  sorrow,  among  us  moderns  covers  its 
features  with  a  veil,  which  it  had  no  need  of  among  the 

anWherSe  the  loudest  laments  sounded  a  restless  little  being 
mi-ht  be  seen  hurrying  from  group  to  group ;  it  was 
Nemu  Katuti's  dwarf,  whom  we  know. 

Now  he  stood  near  a  woman  of  the  be ter  class,  dis- 
solved in  tears  because  her  husband  had  fallen  in  the  last 

ba"can  you  read?"  he  asked  her;  "up  there  on  the 
architrave7  is  the  name  of  Rameses,  with  all  his  titles 
•  Dispenser  of  life,'  he  is  called.    Ay,  indeed  he  can  create 
—widows  ;  for  he  has  all  the  husbands  killed. 

Before  the  astonished  woman  could  reply,  he  stood  by  a 
man  sunk  in  woe,  and  pulling  his  robe,  said  :  Finer 
fellows  than  your  son  have  never  been  seen  in  Thebes 
Let  your  youngest  starve,  or  beat  him  to  a  cripple  else  he 
also  will  be  dragged  off  to  Syria  ;  for  Rameses  needs  much 
trood  Egyptian  meat  for  the  Syrian  vultures  _ 
g  Se  old  man,  who  had  hitherto  stood  there  m  suent 
rtesnair  clenched  his  fist.  The  dwarf  pointed  to  the 
fegL  ^no.  satt :  "If  he  there  wielded  the  scepte*  there 
would  be  fewer  orphans  and  beggars  by  the  Nile  To-day 
its  sacred  waters  are  still  sweet,  but  soon  it  will  taste  as 
salt  as  Se  north  sea  with  all  the  tears  that  have  been  shed 

°nit  almonstSseemed  as  if  the  regent  had  heard  these  words, 
for  he  rose  from  his  seat  and  lifted  his  hands  like  a  man 

W  ManyoTSebf-standers  observed  this  action  ;  and  loud 
cries  of  anguish  filled  the  wide  courtyard,  which  was  soon 
cleared  by  soldiers  to  make  room  for  other  troops  of  peo- 
ple who  were  thronging  in.  r>™>n+  Ani 
P  While  these  gathered  round  the  scribes,  the  Regent  Am 
sat  with  quiet  dignity  on  the  throne,  surrounded  by  his 
suite  and  his  secretaries,  and  held  audiences. 

He  was  a  man  at  the  close  of  his  fortieth  year  and  the 
favorite  cousin  of  the  king. 
8 


114 


UARDA. 


Rameses  I.  the  grandfather  of  the  reigning  monarch, 
had  deposed  the  legitimate  royal  family,  and  usurped  the 
scepter  of  the  Pharaohs.  He  descended  from  a  Semitic 
race  who  had  remained  in  Egypt  at  the  time  of  the  expul- 
sion of  the  Hyksos,*  and  had  distinguished  itself  by  war- 
like talents  under  Thotmes  and  Amenophis.  After  his 
death  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Seti,  who  sought  to 
earn  a  legitimate  claim  to  the  throne  by  marrying  Tuaa, 
the  granddaughter  of  Amenophis  III.  She  presented 
him  with  an  only  son,  whom  he  named  after  his  father 
Rameses.  This  prince  might  lay  claim  to  perfect  legit- 
imacy through  his  mother,  who  descended  directly  from 
the  old  house  of  sovereigns;  for  in  Egypt  a  noble  fam- 
ily— even  that  of  the  Pharaohs — might  be  perpetuated 
through  women. 

Seti  proclaimed  Rameses  f  partner  to  his  throne,  so  as 
to  remove  all  doubt  as  to  the  validity  of  his  position.  The 
young  nephew  of  his  wife  Tuaa,  the  Regent  Ani,  who  was 
a  few  years  younger  than  Rameses,  he  caused  to  be 
brought  up  in  the  house  of  Seti  and  treated  like  his  own 
son,  while  the  other  members  of  the  dethroned  royal 
family  were  robbed  of  their  possessions  or  removed  alto- 
gether. 

Ani  proved  himself  a  faithful  servant  to  Seti  and  to  his 
son,  and  was  trusted  as  a  brother  by  the  warlike  and  mag- 
nanimous Rameses,  who,  however,  never  disguised  from 
himself  the  fact  that  the  blood  in  his  own  veins  was  less 
purely  royal  than  that  whicL  flowed  in  his  cousin's. 

It  was  required  of  the  race  of  the  Pharaohs  of  Egypt 
that  it  should  be  descended  from  the  Sun-god  Ra,  and  the 
Pharaoh  could  boast  of  this  high  descent  only  through  his 
mother — Ani  through  both  parents. 

But  Rameses  sat  on  the  throne,  held  the  scepter  with  a 

*  These  were  an  eastern  race  who  migrated  from  Asia  into  Egypt,  con- 
quered the  lower  Nile  valley,  and  ruled  over  it  for  nearly  500  years,  till 
they  were  driven  out  by  the  successors  of  the  old  legitimate  Pharaohs, 
whose  dominion  had  been  confined  to  upper  Egypt. 

t  Apparently  even  at  his  birth.  According  to  an  inscription  at  Abydos, 
published  by  Mariette,  and  first  interpreted  by  Maspero,  Rameses  boasts 
of  having  been  "  King  even  in  the  egg."  He  is  the  Sesostris  of  the 
Greeks.  His  surname  Sesesu-Ra  is  preserved  on  the  monuments. 
When  the  Greeks  speak  of  the  great  deeds  of  Sesostris,  they  include 
those  of  Seti  and  Rameses. 


UARDA.  "5 


Strong  hand,  and  thirteen  young  sons  promised  to  his 
^Sfffi  he  went  to 

^^^^^^ 
K„«ch  *  to  the  regency  of  the  kingdom. 

A  vehement  character  often  overestimates  the  man  who 

is  Endowed  with  a  quieter  temperament,  into  whose  nature 

^d^'St^i  his'Snudh  impressed  the  fiery  and 

W  An"  apta'dto  be  devoid  of  ambition,  or  the  spirit  of 
enteriSH  he  accepted  the  dignity  that  wa^dugo*  tam 

b°He  was°a  man  of  more  than  middle  height ;  his  features 

wSiSUbly  regular-even  ^^J^^a* 
and  with  little  expression.  His  clear  blue ,  eyes .and ^tnin 
hps  gave  no  evidence  of  the  emotions  that  filled  his  he  ail : , 
on  the  contrary,  his  countenance  wore  a  soft  smile  hat 
rouW  adapt  itself  to  haughtiness,  to  humility,  and  to  a 
vaSty  Sshades  of  feeling,  but  which  could  never  be  en- 
tirely  banished  from  his  face.  .  , 

He  had  listened  with  affable  condescension  t lh  ^oom 
plaint  of  a  landed  proprietor,  whose  cattle  had Lbeendr  iven 
nffforthekine's  army,  and  had  promised  that  his  case 
fould  be  Sired  info.    The  plundered  man  was  eaving 
full  of  hope  ;  but  when  the  scribe  who  sat  at  the  teet  ot  tne 
recent  inou  red  to  whom  the  investigation  of  this  en- 
croachment of the  troops  should  be  intrusted,  Am  said  : 
-  FachTne  must  bring  a  victim  to  the  war  ;  it  must  remain 
among  toe  things  that  are  done,  and  cannot  be  undone^ 
The^Nomarcft  of  Suan,  in  the  southern  part  of  *e 
rountrv   asked  for  funds  for  a  necessary  new  embank 
ment  yTre  regent  listened  to  his  eager  representation 
wfth  benevolenle.  nay  with  expressions  ofsW**^  ™ 
assured  him  that  the  war  absorbed  all  the  fund  ot  ^  the 
state,  that  the  chests  were  empty  ;  still  he  ielt  mclinea 

*  Ethiopia.  t  Chief  of  a  Nome  or  district. 


n6 


UARDA. 


even  if  they  had  not  failed — to  sacrifice  a  part  of  his  own 
income  to  preserve  the  endangered  arable  land  of  his  faith- 
ful province  of  Suan,  to  which  he  desired  greeting. 

As  soon  as  the  Nomarch  had  left  him,  lie  commanded 
that  a  considerable  sum  should  be  taken  out  of  the  treas- 
ury, and  sent  after  the  petitioner. 

From  time  to  time  in  the  middle  of  conversation,  he 
arose,  and  made  a  gesture  of  lamentation,  to  show  to  the 
assembled  mourners  in  the  court  that  he  sympathized  in 
the  losses  which  had  fallen  on  them. 

The  sun  had  already  passed  the  meridian  when  a  dis- 
turbance, accompanied  by  loud  cries,  took  possession  of 
the  masses  of  people,  who  stood  round  the  scribes  in  the 
palace  court. 

Many  men  and  women  were  streaming  together  toward 
one  spot,  and  even  the  most  impassive  of  the  Thebans 
present  turned  their  attention  to  an  incident  so  unusual  in 
this  place. 

A  detachment  of  constabulary  made  a  way  through  the 
crushing  and  yelling  mob,  and  another  division  of  Lybian 
police  led  a  prisoner  toward  a  side  gate  of  the  court. 
Before  they  could  reach  it,  a  messenger  came  up  with 
them,  from  the  regent,  who  desired  to  be  informed  as  to 
what  had  happened. 

The  head  of  the  officers  of  public  safety  followed  him, 
and  with  eager  excitement  informed  Ani,  who  was  wait- 
ing for  him,  that  a  tiny  man,  the  dwarf  of  the  Lady  Ka- 
tuti,  had  for  several  hours  been  going  about  in  the  court 
and  endeavoring  to  poison  the  minds  of  the  citizens  with 
seditious  speeches. 

Ani  ordered  that  the  misguided  man  should  be  thrown 
into  the  dungeon  ;  but  so  soon  as  the  chief  officer  had  left 
him,  he  commanded  his  secretary  to  have  the  dwarf 
brought  into  his  presence  before  sundown. 

While  he  was  giving  this  order  an  excitement  of  another 
kind  seized  the  assembled  multitude. 

As  the  sea  parted  and  stood  on  the  right  hand  and  on 
the  left  of  the  Hebrews,  so  that  no  wave  wetted  the  foot 
of  the  pursued  fugitives,  so  the  crowd  of  people  of  their 
own  free  will,  but  as  if  in  reverent  submission  to  some 
high  command,  parted  and  formed  a  broad  way,  through 
which  walked  the  high-priest  of  the  House  of  Seti,  as,  full 


UARDA.  "7 


robed  and  accompanied  by  some  of  the  "holy  fathers," 
he  now  entered  the  court. 

The  regent  went  to  meet  him,  bowed  before  him,  and 
then  withdrew  to  the  back  of  the  hall  with  him  alone 

"It  is  nevertheless  incredible,"  said  Ameni,  that  our 
serfs  are  to  follow  the  militia  !  "  „        .  ,  , 

"  Rameses  requires  soldiers— to  conquer,    replied  tne 

r6^And  we  bread— to  live, "  exclaimed  the  priest. 

"Nevertheless  I  am  commanded  at  once,  before  the 
seed-time,  to  levy  the  temple  serfs.  I  regret  the  order, 
but  the  king  is  the  will,  and  I  am  only  the  hand. 

"The  hand,  which  he  makes  use  of  to  sequester  an- 
cient rights,  and  to  open  a  way  to  the  desert  over  the 

fruitful  land. "  .  .  ,   ,  ~ 

"Your  acres  will  not  long  remain  unprovided  lor. 

Rameses  will  win  new  victories  with  the  increased  army, 

and  the  help  of  the  gods." 

"The  gods  !  whom  he  insults  ! 

"After  the  conclusion  of  peace  he  will  reconcile  the 
gods  by  doubly  rich  gifts.  He  hopes  confidently  for  an 
early  end  to  the  war,  and  writes  to  me  that  after  the  next 
battle  he  wins  he  intends  to  offer  terms  to  the  Cheta.  A 
plan  of  the  king's  is  also  spoken  of— to  marry  again,  and, 
indeed,  the  daughter  of  the  Cheta  King  Chetasar. 

Up  to  this  moment  the  regent  had  kept  his  eyes  cast 
down.    Now  he  raised  them,  smiling,  as  if  he  would  fain 
enjoy  Ameni's  satisfaction,  and  asked  :  ^ 
"What  dost  thou  say  to  this  project ? 
"I  say"  returned  Ameni,  and  his  voice,  usually  so 
stern,  took  a  tone  of  amusement,  "I  say  that  Rameses 
seems  to  think  that  the  blood  of  thy  cousin  and  of  his 
mother,  which  gives  him  his  right  to  the  throne,  is  in- 
capable of  pollution."  )(  m 
"  It  is  the  blood  of  the  Sun-god  ! 

"Which  runs  but  half  pure  in  his  veins,  but  wholly 

^he^egeS  made  a  deprecatory  gesture,  and  said  softly, 
with  a  smile  which  resembled  that  of  a  dead  man  : 

"  We  are  not  alone."  , 
"  No  one  is  here,"  said  Ameni,  "  who  can  hear  us  ;  and 
what  I  say  is  known  to  every  child." 


*t8  UARDA. 

(q"cBut  )f  ;t  came  to  the  king's  ears,"  whispered  Anl, 

"  He  would  perceive  how  unwise  it  is  to  derogate  from 
the  ancient  rights  of  those  on  whom  it  is  incumbent  to 
prove  the  purity  of  blood  of  the  sovereign  of  this  land 
However,  Rameses  sits  on  the  throne;  may  life  bloom 
tor  him,  with  health  and  strength  !  "  * 

The  regent  bowed,  and  then  asked  : 

<1LD0Z°V  Pr?P°se  to  obe7  the  demand  of  the  Pharaoh 
without  delay  ?  " 

"He  is  the  king.    Our  council,  which  will  meet  in  a 

tWn  f  ^nC,a.n  °nly  determine  how,  and  not  whether,  we 
shall  fulfill  his  command/' 

"You  will  retard  the  departure  of  the  serfs,  and  Rameses 
requires  them  at  once.  The  bloody  labor  of  the  war 
demands. new  tools." 

"And  the  peace  will  perhaps  demand  a  new  master 
who  understands  how  to  employ  the  sons  of  the  land  to  its 
greatest  advantage— a  genuine  son  of  Ra." 

The  regent  stood  opposite  the  high-priest,  motionless  as 
an  image  cast  m  bronze,  and  remained  silent  ;  but  Ameni 
lowered  his  staff  before  him  as  before  a  god,  and  then  went 
into  the  fore  part  of  the  hall. 

When  Ani  followed  him  a  soft  smile  played  as  usual 
upon  his  countenance,  and  full  of  dignity  he  took  his  seat 
on  the  throne. 

"Art  thou  at  an  end  of  thy  communications  ?  "  he  asked 
the  high-priest. 

"  It  remains  for  me  to  inform  you  all,"  replied  Ameni 
with  a  louder  voice,  to  be  heard  by  all  the  assembled 
dignitaries,  1  '-that  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  yesterday  morn- 
ing committed  a  heavy  sin,  and  that  in  all  the  temples  in 
the  land  the  gods  shall  be  entreated  with  offerings  to  take 
her  uncleanness  from  her." 

Again  a  shadow  passed  over  the  smile  on  the  regent's 
countenance.    He  looked  meditatively  on  the  ground 
and  then  said  : 

"  To-morrow  I  will  visit  the  House  of  Seti ;  till  then  I 
beg  that  this  affair  may  be  left  to  rest." 

*  A  formula  which  even  in  private  letters  constantly  follows  the  name 
ot  the  Pharaoh,  J 


UARDA. 


119 


Ameni  bowed,  and  the  regent  left  the  hall  to  withdraw 
to  a  wing  of  the  king  s  palace,  in  which  he  dwelt. 

On  his  writing-table  lay  sealed  papers.  He  knew  that 
they  contained  important  news  for  him ;  but  he  loved  to 
do  violence  to  his  curiosity,  to  test  his  resolution,  and  like 
an  epicure  to  reserve  the  best  dish  till  the  last. 
He  now  glanced  first  at  some  unimportant  letters. 
A  dumb  negro,  who  squatted  at  his  feet,  burned  the 
papyrus-rolls  which  his  master  gave  him  in  a  brazier.  A 
secretary  made  notes  of  the  short  facts  which  Am  called 
out  to  him,  and  the  ground  work  was  laid  of  the  answers 
to  the  different  letters.  . 

At  a  sign  from  his  master  this  functionary  quitted  the 
room,  and  Ani  then  slowly  opened  a  letter  from  the  king, 
whose  address:  "To  my  brother  Ani,"  showed  that  it 
contained,  not  public,  but  private  information. 

On  these  lines,  as  he  well  knew,  hung  his  future  life, 
and  the  road  it  should  follow. 

With  a  smile,  that  was  meant  to  conceal  even  from  him- 
self his  deep  inward  agitation,  he  broke  the  wax  which 
sealed  the  short  manuscript  in  the  royal  hand. 

"What  relates  to  Egypt,  and  my  concern  for  my 
country,  and  the  happy  issue  of  the  war,"  wrote  the 
Pharaoh,  "I  have  written  to  you  by  the  hand  of  my 
secretary  ;  but  these  words  are  for  the  brother,  who  desires 
to  be  my  son,  and  I  write  to  him  myself.  The  lordly 
essence  of  the  Divinity  which  dwells  in  me,  readily  brings 
a  quick  'Yes'  or  'No'  to  my  lips,  and  it  decides  for  the 
best.  Now  you  demand  my  daughter  Bent-Anat  to  wife, 
and  I  should  not  be  Rameses  if  I  did  not  freely  confess 
that  before  I  had  read  the  last  words  of  your  letter,  a  vehe- 
ment '  No '  rushed  to  my  lips.  I  caused  the  stars  to  be 
consulted,  and  the  entrails  of  the  victims  to  be  examined, 
and  they  were  adverse  to  your  request ;  and  yet  I  could  not 
refuse  you,  for  you  are  dear  to  me,  and  your  blood  is  royal 
as  my  own.  Even  more  royal,  an  old  friend  said,  and 
warned  me  against  your  ambition  and  your  exaltation. 
Then  my  heart  changed,  for  I  were  not  Seti's  son  if  I 
allow  myself  to  injure  a  friend  through  idle  apprehensions; 
and  he  who  stands  so  high  that  men  fear  that  he  may  try 
to  rise  above  Rameses,  seems  to  me  to  be  worthy  of  Bent- 
Anat.    Woo  her,  and,  should  she  consent  freely,  the  mar- 


120 


UARDA. 


riage  may  be  celebrated  on  the  day  when  I  return  home. 
You  are  young  enough  to  make  a  wife  happy,  and  your 
mature  wisdom  will  guard  my  child  from  misfortune.  Bent- 
Anat  shall  know  that  her  father,  and  king,  encourages, 
your  suit ;  but  pray  too  to  the  Hathors  that  they  may 
influence  Bent-Anat's  heart  in  your  favor,  for  to  her  decis- 
ion we  must  both  submit." 

The  regent  had  changed  color  several  time  while  read- 
ing this  letter.  Now  he  laid  it  on  the  table  with  a  shrug 
of  his  shoulders,  stood  up,  clasped  his  hands  behind  him, 
and,  with  his  eyes  cast  meditatively  on  the  floor,  leaned 
against  one  of  the  pillars  which  supported  the  beams  of 
the  roof. 

The  longer  he  thought,  the  less  amiable  his  expression 
became.  "  A  pill  sweetened  with  honey,*  such  as  they 
give  to  women,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  Then  he  went 
back  to  the  table,  read  the  kings  letter  through  once  more, 
and  said  :  "  One  may  learn  from  it  how  to  deny  by  grant- 
ing, and  at  the  same  time  not  to  forget  to  give  it  a  brilliant 
show  of  magnanimity.  Rameses  knows  his  daughter. 
She  is  a  girl  like  any  other,  and  will  take  good  care  not  to 
choose  a  man  twice  as  old  as  herself,  and  who  might  be 
her  father.  Rameses  will  £  submit ' — I  am  to  '  submit  !  ' 
And  to  what  ?  to  the  judgment  and  the  choice  of  a  willful 
child  !  " 

With  these  words  he  threw  the  letter  so  vehemently  on 
to  the  table  that  is  slipped  off  on  to  the  floor. 

The  mute  slave  picked  it  up,  and  laid  it  carefully  on  the 
table  again,  while  his  master  threw  a  ball  into  a  silver 
basin. 

Several  attendants  rushed  into  the  room,  and  Ani 
ordered  them  to  bring  to  him  the  captive  dwarf  of  the  Lady 
Katuti.  His  soul  rose  in  indignation  against  the  king, 
who  in  his  remote  camp-tent  could  fancy  he  had  made 
him  happy  by  a  proof  of  his  highest  favor. 

When  we  are  plotting  against  a  man  we  are  inclined  to 
regard  him  as  an  enemy,  and  if  he  offers  us  a  rose  we  be- 
lieve it  to  be  for  the  sake,  not  of  the  perfume,  but  of  the 
thorns. 


*  Two  recipes  for  pills  are  found  in  the  papyri,  one  with  honey  for 
women,  and  one  without  for  men.  \ 


UARDA. 


The  dwarf  Nemu  was  brought  before  the  regent  and 
threw  himself  on  the  ground  at  his  feet. 

Ani  ordered  the  attendants  to  leave  him,  and  said  to  the 
little  man  : 

"  You  compelled  me  to  put  you  in  prison.    Stand  up  ! 
The  dwarf  rose  and  said,  4 'Be  thanked— for  my  arrest 

The  regent  looked  at  him  in  astonishment ;  but  Nemu 
went  on  half  humbly,  half  in  fun,  "  I  feared  for  my  life, 
but  thou  hast  not  only  not  shortened  it,  but  hast  prolonged 
it ;  for  in  the  solitude  of  the  dungeon  lime  seemed  long, 
and  the  minutes  grown  to  hours." 

' < Keep  your  wit  for  the  ladies,"  replied  the  regent. 
M  Did  I  not  know  that  you  meant  well,  and  acted  in 
accordance  with  the  Lady  Katuti's  fancy,  I  would  send 
you  to  the  quarries. " 

"My  hands,"  mumbled  the  dwarf,  "  could  only  break 
stones  for  a  game  of  draughts  ;  but  my  tongue  is  like  the 
water,  which  makes  one  peasant  rich,  and  carries  away 
the  fields  of  another." 

"We  shall  know  how  to  dam  it  up." 

"  For  my  lady  and  for  thee  it  will  always  flow  the  right 
way,"  said  the  dwarf.  "I  showed  the  complaining 
citizens  who  it  is  that  slaughters  their  flesh  and  blood,  and 
from  whom  to  look  for  peace  and  content.  #  I  poured 
caustic  into  their  wounds,  and  praised  the  physician." 

<  <  But  unasked  and  recklessly, "  interrupted  Ani  ;  ' '  other- 
wise you  have  shown  yourself  capable,  and  I  am  willing 
to  spare  you  for  a  future  time.  But  over-busy  friends  are 
more  damaging  than  intelligent  enemies.  When  I  need 
your  service  I  will  call  for  you.  Till  then  -avoid  speech. 
Now  go  to  your  mistress,  and  carry  to  Katuti  this  letter 
which  has  arrived  for  her." 

"Hail  to  Ani,  the  son  of  the  Sun  !"  cried  the  dwarf, 
kissing  the  regent's  foot.  "  Have  I  no  letter  to  carry  to 
my  mistress  Nefert  ?  " 

"Greet  her  from  me,"  replied  the  regent.  "Tell 
Katuti  I  will  visit  her  after  the  next  meal.  The  king's 
charioteer  has  not  written,  yet  I  hear  that  he  is  well.  Go 
now,  and  be  silent  and  discreet." 

The  dwarf  quitted  the  room,  and  Ani  went  into  an  airy 
hall,   in  which  his  luxurious  meal  was  laid  out,  con- 


122 


UARDA. 


sisting  of  many  dishes  prepared  with  special  care.  His 
appetite  was  gone,  but  he  tasted  of  every  dish,  and  gave 
the  steward,  who  attended  on  him,  his  opinion  of  each. 

Meanwhile  he  thought  of  the  king's  letter,  of  Bent-Anat, 
and  whether  it  would  be  advisable  to  expose  himself  to  a 
rejection  on  her  part. 

After  the  meal  he  gave  himself  up  to  his  body-servant, 
who  carefully  shaved,  painted,  dressed,  and  decorated 
him,  and  then  held  the  mirror  before  him.  He  considered 
the  reflection  with  anxious  observation,  and  when  he 
seated  himself  in  his  litter  to  be  borne  to  the  house  of  his 
friend  Katuti,  he  said  to  himself  that  he  still  might  claim 
to  be  called  a  handsome  man. 

If  he  paid  his  court  to  Bent-Anat — if  she  listened  to  his 
suit — what  then  ? 

He  would  refer  it  to  Katuti,  who  always  knew  how  to 
say  a  decisive  word  when  he,  entangled  in  a  hundred  pros 
and  cons,  feared  to  venture  on  a  final  step. 

By  her  advice  he  had  sought  to  wed  the  princess,  as  a 
fresh  mark  of  honor — as  an  addition  to  his  revenues — 
as  a  pledge  for  his  personal  safety.  His  heart  had  never 
been  more  or  less  attached  to  her  than  to  any  other  beau- 
tiful woman  in  Egypt.  Now  her  proud  and  noble  person- 
ality stood  before  his  inward  eye,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  must 
look  up  to  it  as  to  a  vision  high  out  of  his  reach.  It  vexed 
him  that  he  had  followed  Katuti's  advice,  and  he  began  to 
wish  his  suit  had  been  repulsed.  Marriage  with  Bent- 
Anat  seemed  to  him  beset  with  difficulties.  His  mood  was 
that  of  a  man  who  craves  some  brilliant  position,  though 
he  knows  that  its  requirements  are  beyond  his  powers — 
that  of  an  ambitious  soul  to  whom  kingly  honors  are 
offered  on  condition  that  he  will  never  remove  a  heavy 
crown  from  his  head.  If  indeed  another  plan  should  suc- 
ceed, if — and  his  eyes  flashed  eagerly — if  fate  set  him  on 
the  seat  of  Rameses,  then  the  alliance  with  Bent-Anat 
would  lose  its  terrors  ;  there  would  he  be  her  absolute  king 
and  lord  and  master,  and  no  one  could  require  him  to 
account  for  what  he  might  be  to  her,  or  vouchsafe  to  her. 


UARDA. 


123 


CHAPTER  X. 

During  the  events  we  have  described  the  house  of  the 
charioteer  Mena  had  not  remained  free  from  visitors. 

It  resembled  the  neighboring  estate  of  Paaker,  though 
the  buildings  were  less  new,  the  gay  paint  on  the  pillars 
and  walls  was  faded,  and  the  large  garden  lacked  careful 
attention.  In  the  vicinity  of  the  house  only,  a  few  well- 
kept  beds  blazed  with  splendid  flowers,  and  the  open  colon- 
nade, which  was  occupied  by  Katuti  and  her  daughter, 
was  furnished  with  royal  magnificence. 

The  elegantly  carved  seats  were  made  of  ivory,  the 
tables  of  ebony,  and  they,  as  well  as  the  couches,  had  gilt 
feet.  The  artistically  worked  Syrian  drinking  vessels  on 
the  sideboard,  tables,  and  consoles  were  of  many  forms  ; 
beautiful  vases  full  of  flowers  stood  everywhere  ;  rare  per- 
fumes rose  from  alabaster  cups,  and  the  foot  sank  in  the 
thick  pile  of  the  carpets  which  covered  the  floor. 

And  over  the  apparently  careless  arrangement  of  these 
various  objects  there  reigned  a  peculiar  charm,  an  inde- 
scribably fascinating  something. 

Stretched  at  full  length  on  a  couch,  and  playing  with  a 
silky-haired  white  cat,  lay  the  fair  Nefert — fanned  to  cool- 
ness by  a  negro  girl — while  her  mother  Katuti  nodded  a 
last  farewell  to  her  sister  Setchem  and  to  Paaker. 

Both  had  crossed  this  threshold  for  the  first  time  for 
four  years  ;  that  is,  since  the  marriage  of  Mena  with 
Nefert,  and  the  old  enmity  seemed  now  to  have  given  way 
to  heartfelt  reconciliation  and  mutual  understanding. 

After  the  pioneer  and  his  mother  had  disappeared  behind 
the  pomegranate  shrubs  at  the  entrance  of  the  garden, 
Katuti  turned  to  her  daughter  and  said  : 

"Who  would  have  thought  it  yesterday?  I  believe 
Paaker  loves  you  still. " 

Nefert  colored,  and  exclaimed  softly,  while  she  hit  the 
kitten  gently  with  her  fan  : 
'"Mother!" 


124 


UARDA. 


Katuti  smiled. 

She  was  a  tall  woman,  of  noble  demeanor,  whose  sharp 
but  delicately-cut  features  and  sparkling  eyes  could  still 
assert  some  pretensions  to  feminine  beauty.  She  wore  a 
long  robe,  which  reached  below  her  ankles  ;  it  was  of 
costly  material,  but  dark  in  color,  and  of  a  studied  simpli- 
city. Instead  of  the  ornaments  in  bracelets,  anklets,  ear 
and  finger-rings,  in  necklaces  and  clasps,  which  most  of  the 
Egyptian  ladies — and  indeed  her  own  sister  and  daughter 
. — were  accustomed  to  wear,  she  had  only  fresh  flowers, 
which  were  never  wanting  in  the  garden  of  her  son-in-law. 
Only  a  plain  gold  diadem,  the  badge  of  her  royal  descent, 
always  rested,  from  early  morning  till  late  at  night,  on  her 
high  brow — for  a  woman  too  high,  though  nobly  formed 
— and  confined  the  long  blue-black  hair,  which  fell  un- 
braided  down  her  back,  as  if  its  owner  contemned  the  vain 
labor  of  arranging  it  artistically.  But  nothing  in  her  ex- 
terior was  unpremeditated,  and  the  unbejeweled  wearer  of 
the  diadem,  in  her  plain  dress,  and  with  her  royal  figure, 
was  everywhere  sure  of  being  observed,  and  of  finding 
imitators  of  her  dress,  and  indeed  of  her  demeanor. 

And  yet  Katuti  had  long  lived  in  need  ;  ay,  at  the  very 
hour  when  we  first  make  her  acquaintance,  she  had  little 
of  her  own,  but  lived  on  the  estate  of  her  son  -in-law  as 
his  guest,  and  as  the  administrator  of  his  possessions  ;  and 
before  the  marriage  of  her  daughter  she  had  lived  with 
her  children  in  a  house  belonging  to  her  sister  Setchem. 

She  had  been  the  wife  of  her  own  brother,*  who  had 
died  young,  and  who  had  squandered  the  greatest  part  of 
the  possessions  which  had  been  left  to  him  by  the  new 
royal  family,  in  an  extravagant  love  of  display. 

When  she  became  a  widow,  she  was  received  as  a  sister, 
with  her  children,  by  her  brother-in-law,  Paaker  s  father. 
She  lived  in  a  house  of  her  own,  enjoyed  the  income  of  an 
estate  assigned  to  her  by  the  old  Mohar,  and  left  to  her 
son-in-law  the  care  of  educating  her  son,  a  handsome 

*  Marriages  between  brothers  and  sisters  were  allowed  in  ancient 
Egypt.  The  Ptolemaic  princes  adopted  this,  which  was  contrary  to  the 
Macedonian  customs.  When  Ptolemy  II.  Philadelphia  married  his 
sister  Arsinoe,  it  seems  to  have  been  thought  necessary  to  excuse  it  by 
the  relative  positions  of  Venus  and  Saturn  at  that  period,  and  the  con- 
straining influence  of  these  planets. 


UARDA. 


125 


and  overbearing  lad,  with  all  the  claims  and  pretensions  of 
a  youth  of  distinction. 

Such  great  benefits  would  have  oppressed  and  disgraced 
the  proud  Katuti,  if  she  had  been  content  with  them  and 
in  every  way  agreed  with  the  giver.  But  this  was  by  no 
means  the  case  ;  rather,  she  believed  that  she  might  pretend 
to  a  more  brilliant  outward  position,  felt  herself  hurt  when 
her  heedless  son  while  he  attended  school,  was  warned  to 
work  more  seriously,  as  he  would  by  and  by  have  to  rely 
on  his  own  skill  and  his  own  strength.  And  it  had 
wounded  her  when  occasionally  her  brother-in-law  #  had 
suggested  economy,  and  had  reminded  her,  in  his  straight- 
forward way,  of  her  narrow  means,  and  the  uncertain 
future  of  her  children. 

At  this  she  was  deeply  offended,  for  she  ventured  to 
say  that  her  relatives  could  never,  with  all  their  gifts, 
compensate  for  the  insults  they  heaped  upon  her;  and  thus 
taught  them  by  experience  that  we  quarrel  with  no  one 
more  readily  than  with  the  benefactor  whom  we  can  never 
repay  for  all  the  good  he  bestows  on  us. 

Nevertheless,  when  her  brother-in-law  asked  the  hand 
of  her  daughter  for  his  son,  she  willingly  gave  her  con- 
sent. 

Nefert  and  Paaker  had  grown  up  together,  and  by  this 
union  she  foresaw  that  she  could  secure  her  own  future 
and  that  of  her  children. 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  the  Mohar,  the  charioteer 
Mena  had  proposed  for  Nefert's  hand,  but  would  have 
been  refused  if  the  king  himself  had  not  supported  the 
suit  of  his  favorite  officer.  After  the  wedding,  she  retired 
with  Nefert  to  Mena  s  house,  and  undertook,  while  he  was 
at  the  war,  to  manage  his  great  estates,  which,  however, 
had  been  greatly  burdened  with  debt  by  his  father. 

Fate  put  the  means  into  her  hands  of  indemnifying  her- 
self and  her  children  for  many  past  privations,  and  she 
availed  herself  of  them  to  gratify  her  innate  desire  to  be 
esteemed  and  admired  ;  to  obtain  admission  for  her  son, 
splendidly  equipped,  into  a  company  of  chariot-warriors  of 
the  highest  class ;  and  to  surround  her  daughter  with 
princely  magnificence. 

When  the  regent,  who  had  been  a  friend  of  her  late 
husband,  removed  into  the  palace  of  the  Pharaohs,  he 


126  UARDA. 

made  her  advances,  and  the  clever  and  decided  woman 
knew  how  to  make  herself  at  first  agreeable,  and  finally 
indispensable,  to  the  vacillating  man. 

She  availed  herself  of  the  circumstance  that  she,  as  well 
as  he  was  descended  from  the  old  royal  house  to  pique 
his  ambition,  and  to  open  to  him  a  view,  which,  even  to 
think  of,  he  would  have  considered  forbidden  as  a  crime, 
before  he  became  intimate  with  her. 

Ani's  suit  for  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  was 
Katuti  s  work.  She  hoped  that  the  Pharaoh  would  refuse, 
and  personally  offend  the  regent,  and  so  make  him  more 
inclined  to  tread  the  dangerous  road  which  she  was 
endeavoring  to  smooth  for  him.  The  dwarf  Nemu  was 
her  pliant  tool.  . 

She  had  not  initiated  him  into  her  projects  by  any 
words  ;  he,  however,  gave  utterance  to  every  impulse  ot 
her  mind  in  free  language,  which  was  punished  only  with 
blows  from  a  fan,  and,  only  the  day  before,  had  been  so 
audacious  as  to  say  that  if  the  Pharaoh  were  called  Am 
instead  of  Rameses,  Katuti  would  be  not  a  queen  but  a* 
eoddess,  for  she  would  then  have  not  to  obey,  but  rather 
to  guide,  the  Pharaoh,  who  indeed  himself  was  related  to 
the  immortals.  , 

Katuti  did  not  observe  her  daughters  blush,  for  she  was 
looking;  anxiously  out  at  the  garden  gate,  and  said  : 

"Where  can  Nemu  be!  There  must  be  some  news 
arrived  for  us  from  the  army/' 

"  Mena  has  not  written  for  so  long,  Nefert  said,  softly. 
"Ah  !  here  is  the  steward  ! " 

Katuti  turned  to  the  officer,  who  had  entered  the  veranda 
through  a  side  door. 

"  What  do  you  bring  ?  "  she  asked. 

-The  dealer  Abscha,"  was  the  answer,  -  presses  for 
payment.     The   new   Syrian   chariot   and   the  purple 

cloth  "  r  . 

"  Sell  some  corn/'  ordered  Katuti. 

-Impossible,  for  the  tribute  to  the  temples  is  not  yet 
paid  and  already  so  much  has  been  delivered  to  the  deal- 
ers that  scarcely  enough  remains  over  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  household  and  for  sowing." 

"Then  pay  with  beasts/' 

"But,  madam,"  said  the  steward,  sorrowfully,  only 


UARDA. 


yesterday  we  again  sold  a  herd  to  the  Mohar :  and  the 
water-wheels  must  be  turned,  and  the  corn  must^be 
thrashed,  and  we  need  beasts  for  sacrifice,  and  milk, 
butter,  and  cheese  for  the  use  of  the  house,  and  dung  for 
firing.  "* 

Katuti  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  ground. 

"  It  must  be,"  she  said  presently.  "  Ride  to  Hermonthis, 
and  say  to  the  keeper  of  the  stud  that  he  must  have  ten 
of  Mena's  golden  bays  driven  over  here." 

' '  I  have  already  spoken  to  him, "  said  the  steward,  ' '  but 
he  maintains  that  Mena  strictly  forbade  him  to  part  with 
even  one  of  the  horses,  for  he  is  proud  of  the  stock.  Only 
for  the  chariot  of  the  lady  Nefert  " 

"  I  require  obedience,"  said  Katuti,  decidedly,  and  cut- 
ting short  the  steward's  words,  "and  I  expect  the  horses 
to-morrow. " 

"  But  the  stud-master  is  a  daring  man,  whom  Mena 
looks  upon  as  indispensable,  and  he  " 

"  I  command  here,  and  not  the  absent,"  cried  Katuti, 
enraged,  "and  I  require  the  horses  in  spite  of  the  former 
orders  of  my  son-in-law. " 

Nefert,  during  this  conversation,  pulled  herself  up  from 
her  indolent  attitude.  On  hearing  the  last  words  she  rose 
from  her  couch,  and  said,  with  a  decision  which  surprised 
even  her  mother : 

'•'The  orders  of  my  husband  must  be  obeyed.  The 
horses  that  Mena  loves  shall  stay  in  their  stalls.  Take 
this  armlet  that  the  king  gave  me  ;  it  is  worth  more  than 
twenty  horses." 

The  steward  examined  the  trinket,  richly  set  with  pre- 
cious stones,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  Katuti.  She 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  nodded  consent,  and  said  : 

"  Abscha  shall  hold  it  as  a  pledge  till  Mena's  booty 
arrives.  For  a  year  your  husband  has  sent  nothing  of 
importance." 

When  the  steward  was  gone,  Nefert  stretched  herself 
again  on  her  couch  and  said,  wearily  : 
"  I  thought  we  were  rich." 

V  We  might  be,"  said  Katuti,  bitterly;  but  as  she  per- 
ceived that  Nefert's  cheeks  again  were  glowing,  she  said 

*  In  Egypt,  where  there  is  so  little  wood,  to  this  day  the  dried  dung  of 
beasts  is  the  commonest  kind  of  fuel. 


12 


g  UARDA. 


amiably:  "Our  high  rank  imposes  great  duties  on  us. 
Princely  blood  flows  in  our  veins,  and  the  eyes  of  the 
people  are  turned  on  the  wife  of  the  most  brilliant  hero  in 
the  king's  army.  They  shall  not  say  that  she  is  neglected 
by  her  husband.    How  long  Mena  remains  away  ! 

"I  hear  a  noise  in  the  court,"  said  Nefert.       The  re 
gent  is  coming." 

Katuti  turned  again  toward  the  garden. 

A  breathless  slave  rushed  in,  and  announced  that  Bent- 
Anat,  the  daughter  of  the  king,  had  dismounted  at  the 
gate,  and  was  approaching  the  garden  with  the  Prince 

RNefert  left  her  couch,  and  went  with  her  mother  to 
meet  the  exalted  visitors.  .  , 

As  the  mother  and  daughter  bowed  to  kiss  the  robe  of 
the  princess,  "Bent-Anal  signed  them  back  &?m  her 
-  Keep  farther  from  me,"  she  said  ;  "  the  priests  have  not 
yet  entirely  absolved  me  from  my  unc leanness. 
7  "And  in  spite  of  them  thou  art  clean  in  the  sight  of 
Ra  !  "  exclaimed  the  boy  who  accompanied  her,  her  brother 
of  seventeen,  who  was  brought  up  at  the  House  of  Sell 
which,  however  he  was  to  leave  in  a  few  weeks-and  he 

kiS"eidsharil  complain  to  Ameni  of  this  wild  boy,"  said 
Bent-Anat,  smiling,  "He  would  positively '  accompany 
me  Your  husband,  Nefert,  is  his  mode  1  and  I  had  no 
peace  in  the  house,  for  we  came  to  bring  you  good 

ne<<From  Mena?"  asked  the  young  wife,  pressing  her 

^As0  you"-;-,"  returned  Bent-Anat  "My  father 
praises  Ids  ability,  and  writes  that  he  before  all  others, 
will  have  his  choice  at  the  dividing  of  the  spoil. 

Nefert  threw  a  triumphant  glance  at  her  mother,  and 
Katuti  drew  a  deep  breath.  :1 , 

Bent-Anat  stroked  Nefert's  cheeks  like  those  of  a  child. 
Then  she  turned  to  Katuti,  led  her  into  the  garden  and 
Lgged  her  to  aid  her,  who  had  so  early  lost  her  mother, 
with  her  advice  in  a  weighty  matter.  .  .  , 

«• My father,"  she  continued,  after  a  few  introductory 
words7"  informs  me  that  the  Regent  Am  desires  ,;e  for 
his  wife,  and  advises  me  to  reward  the  fidelity  ot  tne 


UARDA. 


129 


worthy  man  with  my  hand.    He  advises  it,  you  under- 
stand— he  does  not  command." 
"And  thou  ?  "  asked  Katuti. 

"And  I?"  replied  Bent-Anat,  decidedly,  "must  refuse 
him. " 

"Thou  must ! " 

Bent-Anat  made  a  sign  of  assent  and  went  on. 

"  It  is  quite  clear  to  me.    I  can  do  nothing  else." 

"Then  thou  dost  not  need  my  counsel,  since  even 
thy  father,  I  well  know,  will  not  be  able  to  alter  thy 
decision. " 

"  No  god  even  could  alter  this  one  !  "  said  Bent-Anat, 
firmly.  "But  you  are  Ani's  friend,  and,  as  I  esteem  him, 
I  would  save  him  this  humiliation.  Endeavor  to  persuade 
him  to  give  up  his  suit.  I  will  meet  him  as  though  I 
knew  nothing  of  his  letter  to  my  father." 

Katuti  looked  down  reflectively.  Then  she  said  :  "The 
regent  certainly  likes  very  well  to  pass  his  hours  of 
leisure  with  me  gossiping  or  playing  draughts,  but  I  do 
not  know  that  I  should  dare  to  speak  to  him  of  so  grave  a 
matter."  6 

"Marriage  projects  are  women's  affairs,"  said  Bent- 
Anat,  smiling. 

"But  the  marriage  of  a  princess  is  a  state  event,"  replied 
the  widow.  "In  this  case,  it  is  true  the  uncle  only  courts 
his  niece,  who  is  dear  to  him,  and  who  he  hopes  will  make 
the  second  half  of  his  life  the  brightest.  Ani  is  kind  and 
without  severity.  Thou  wouldst  win  in  him  a  husband, 
who  would  wait  on  thy  looks,  and  bow  willinelv  to  thv 
strong  will."  Sy  y 

Bent-Anat  s  eyes  flashed,  and  she  hastilv  exclaimed: 
"That  is  exactly  what  forces  the  decisive  irrevocable  'No' 
to  my  lips.  Do  you  think  that  because  I  am  as  proud  as 
my  mother,  and  resolute  like  my  father,  that  I  wish  for  a 
husband  whom  I  could  govern  and  lead  as  I  would?  How 
little  you  know  me  !  I  will  be  obeyed  by  my  dogs,  my 
servants,  my  officers,  if  the  gods  so  will  it,  by  my  children. 
Abject  beings,  who  will  kiss  my  feet,  I  meet  on  every 
road,  and  can  buy  by  the  hundred,  if  I  wish  it,  in  the 
slave  market.  I  may  be  courted  twenty  times,  and  reject 
twenty  suitors,  but  not  because  I  fear  that  they  might 
bend  my  pride  and  my  will ;  on  the  contrary,  because  I  feel 
9 


I30  UARDA. 

them  increased.  The  man  to  whom  I  could  wish  to  offer 
mv  hand  must  be  of  a  loftier  stamp,  must  be  greater, 
firmer  and  better  than  I,  and  I  will  flutter  after  the  mighty 
wing-strokes  of  his  spirit,  and  smile  at  my  own  weakness, 
and  glory  in  admiring  his  superiority." 

Katuti  listened  to  the  maiden  with  the  smile  by  which 
the  experienced  love  to  signify  their  superiority  over  the 

visionary.  ,  „  „, 

"Ancient  times  may  have  produced  such  men,  she 
said  ' '  But  if  in  these  days  thou  thinkest  to  find  one,  thou 
wilt' wear  the  lock  of  youth*  till  thou  art  gray.  Our 
thinkers  are  no  heroes,  and  our ^heroes  are  no  sages. 
Here  come  thy  brother  and  Nefert." 

"Will  you  persuade  Ani  to  give  up  his  suit?    said  the 

Prl"?w^irendeaTOr  to  do  so,  for  thy  sake,"  replied  Katuti. 
Then,  turning  half  to  the  young  Ramen  and  half  to  his 
sister,  she  said :  ... 

"The  chief  of  the  House  of  Seti,  Ameni,  was  in  his 
youth  such  a  man  as  thou  paintest,  Bent-Anat.  Tell  us, 
thou  son  of  Rameses,  that  art  growing  up  under  the  young 
sycamores,  which  shall  some  day  overshadow  the  land— 
whom  dost  thou  esteem  the  highest  among  thy  compan- 
ions? Is  there  one  among  them  who  is  conspicuous 
above  them  all  for  a  lofty  spirit  and  the  strength  of  in- 

telThe  young  Rameri  looked  gayly  at  the  speaker,  and  said, 
lauehimr  "We  are  all  much  alike,  and  do  more  or  less 
willingly  what  we  are  compelled,  and  by  preference  every- 
thing: we  ought  not."  ,  , 

'  'A  mighty  soul— a  youth,  who  promises  to  be  a  second? 
Snefru  a  Thotmes,  or  even  an  Ameni?  Dost  thou  know 
none  such  in  the  House  of  Seti  ?  "  asked  the  widow. 

"Oh  yes  !  "  cried  Rameri,  with  eager  certainty. 

"And  he  is  ?  "  asked  Katuti. 


*  The  lock  of  youth  was  a  curl  of  hair  which  all  the  younger  members 
of  princely  famiUes  wore  at  the  side  of  the  head.    The  young  Horus  is 

TThe"  fiSSg  of  the  fourth  dynasty,  who  to  a  late  date  was  held I  in 
hiBh  honor,  and  of  whom  it  is  said  in  several  places  that  the  like  has 
not  been  seen  since  the  days  of  Snefru."  The  monuments  of  his  time 
are  the  earliest  which  have  generally  come  down  to  us. 


UARDA. 


"  Pentaur,  the  poet, "  exclaimed  the  youth.  Bent-Anafs 
'  face  glowed  with  scarlet  color,  while  her  brother  went  on 
to  explain. 

"He  is  noble  and  of  a  lofty  soul,  and  all  the  gods  dwell 
in  him  when  he  speaks.  Formerly  we  used  to  go  to  sleep 
in  the  lecture-hall ;  but  his  words  carry  us  away,  and  if  we 
do  not  take  in  the  full  meaning  of  his  thoughts,  yet  we 
feel  that  they  are  genuine  and  noble." 

Bent-Anat  breathed  quicker  at  these  words,  her  eyes 
hung  on  the  boy  s  lips. 

"  You  know  him,  Bent-Anat,"  continued  Rameri.  <f  He 
was  with  you  at  the  paraschites'  house,  and  in  the  temple- 
court  when  Ameni  pronounced  you  unclean.  He  is  as  tall 
and  handsome  as  the  God  Menth,*  and  I  feel  that  he  is 
one  of  those  whom  we  can  never  forget  when  once  we 
have  seen  them.  Yesterday,  after  you  had  left  the  temple, 
he  spoke  as  he  never  spoke  before  ;  he  poured  fire  into  our 
souls.  Do  not  laugh,  Katuti,  I  feel  it  burning  still.  This 
morning  we  were  informed  that  he  had  been  sent  from  the 
temple,  who  knows  where— and  had  left  us  a  message  of 
farewell.  It  was  not  thought  at  all  necessary  to  commu- 
nicate the  reason  to  us  ;  but  we  know  more  than  the 
masters  think.  He  did  not  reprove  you  strongly  enough, 
Bent-Anat,  and  therefore  he  is  driven  out  of  the  House  of 
Seti.  We  have  agreed  to  combine  to  ask  for  him  to  be 
recalled  ;  Anana  is  drawing  up  a  letter  to  the  chief  priest 
which  we  shall  all  subscribe.  It  would  turn  out  badly  for 
one  alone,  but  they  cannot  be  at  all  of  us  at  once.  Very 
likely  they  will  have  the  sense  to  recall  him.  If  not,  we 
shall  all  complain  to  our  fathers,  and  they  are  not  the 
meanest  in  the  land." 

"  It  is  a  complete  rebellion,"  cried  Katuti.  <  <  Take  care 
you  lordlings  ;  Ameni  and  the  other  prophets  are  not  to  be 
trifled  with." 

"Nor  we  either,"  said  Rameri,  laughing.  "  If  Pentaur 
is  kept  in  banishment,  I  shall  appeal  to  my  father  to  place 
me  at  the  school  at  Heliopolis  or  Chennu,  and  the  others 
will  follow  me.  Come,  Bent-Anat,  I  must  be  back  in  the 
trap  before  sunset.  Excuse  me,  Katuti,  so  we  call  the 
school.    Here  comes  your  little  Nemu." 

The  brother  and  sister  left  the  garden, 

*  Menth,  the  Egyptian  God  pf  Wa^v 


132  UARDA. 

As  soon  as  the  ladies,  who  accompanied  them,  had 
turned  their  backs,  Bent-Anat  grasped  her  brother's  hand 
with  unaccustomed  warmth,  and  said  : 

"  Avoid  all  imprudence  ;  but  your  demand  is  just,  and  I 
will  help  you  with  all  my  heart." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

As  soon  as  Bent-Anat  had  quitted  Mena's  domain,  the 
dwarf  Nemu  entered  the  garden  with  a  letter,  and  briefly 
related  his  adventures  ;  but  in  such  a  comical  fashion  that 
both  the  ladies  laughed,  and  Katuti,  with  a  lively  gayety, 
which  was  usually  foreign  to  her,  while  she  warned  him, 
at  the  same  time  praised  his  acuteness.  She  looked  at  the 
seal  of  the  letter,  and  said  : 

"This  is  a  lucky  day  ;  it  has  brought  us  great  things, 
and  the  promise  of  greater  things  in  the  future." 

Nefert  came  close  up  to  her  and  said  imploringly  : 
"  Open  the  letter,  and  see  if  there  is  nothing  in  it  from 
him." 

Katuti  unfastened  the  wax,  looked  through  the  letter 
with  a  hasty  glance,  stroked  the  cheek  of  her  child,  and 
said  : 

"  Perhaps  your  brother  has  written  for  him  ;  I  see  no 
line  in  his  handwriting." 

Nefert  on  her  side  glanced  at  the  letter,  but  not  to  read 
it,  only  to  seek  some  trace  of  the  well-known  handwriting 
of  her  husband. 

Like  all  the  Egyptian  women  of  good  family  she  could 
read,  and  during  the  first  two  years  of  her  married  life  she 
had  often — very  often— had  the  opportunity  of  puzzling, 
and  yet  rejoicing,  over  the  feeble  signs  which  the  iron 
hand  of  the  charioteer  had  scrawled  on  the  papyrus  for 
her  whose  slender  fingers  could  guide  the  reed-pen  with 
firmness  and  decision. 

She  examined  the  letter,  and  at  last  said,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes  : 

"  Nothing  !    I  will  go  to  my  room,  mother." 


UARDA. 


M3 


KatutJ  kissed  her  and  said  :  "  Hear  first  what  your 
brother  writes. " 

But  Nefert  shook  her  head,  turned  away  in  silence,  and 
disappeared  into  the  house. 

Katuti  was  not  very  friendly  to  her  son-in-law,  but  her 
heart  clung  to  her  handsome,  reckless  son,  the  very  image 
of  her  lost  husband,  the  favorite  of  women,  and  the  gayest 
youth  among  the  young  nobles  who  composed  the  chariot- 
guard  of  the  king. 

How  fully  he  had  written  to-day — he  who  wielded  the 
reed-pen  so  laboriously. 

This  really  was  a  letter  ;  while,  usually,  he  only  asked 
in  the  fewest  words  for  fresh  funds  for  the  gratification  of 
his  extravagant  tastes. 

This  time  she  might  look  for  thanks,  for  not  long  since 
he  must  have  received  a  considerable  supply,  which  she 
had  abstracted  from  the  income  of  the  possessions  en- 
trusted to  her  by  her  son-in-law. 

She  began  to  read. 

The  cheerfulness  with  which  she  had  met  the  dwarf  was 
insincere,  and  had  resembled  the  brilliant  colors  of  the  rain- 
bow, which  gleam  over  the  stagnant  waters  of  a  bog.  A 
stone  falls  into  the  pool,  the  colors  vanish,  dim  mists  rise 
up,  and  it  becomes  foul  and  cloudy. 

The  news  which  her  son's  letter  contained  fell,  indeed, 
like  a  block  of  stone  on  Katuti  s  soul. 

Our  deepest  sorrows  always  flow  from  the  same  source  as 
might  have  filled  us  with  joy,  and  those  wounds  burn  the 
fiercest  which  are  inflicted  by  a  hand  we  love. 

The  further  Katuti  went  in  the  lamentably  incorrect 
epistle — which  she  could  only  decipher  with  difficulty — 
which  her  darling  had  written  to  her,  the  paler  grew  her 
face,  which  she  several  times  covered  with  the  trembling 
hands,  from  which  the  letter  dropped. 

Nemu  squatted  on  the  earth  near  her,  and  followed  all 
her  movements. 

When  she  sprang  forward  with  a  heart-piercing  scream, 
and  pressed  her  forehead  to  a  rough,  palm-trunk,  he 
crept  up  to  her,  kissed  her  feet,  and  exclaimed,  with  a 
depth  of  feeling  that  overcame  even  Katuti,  who  was  ac- 
customed to  hear  only  gay  or  bitter  speeches  from  the  lips 
of  her  jester ; 


,34  UARDA. 


"  Mistress !  lady  !  what  has  happened ? 

Katuti  collected  herself,  turned  to  him,  and  tried  to 
sneak  but  her  pale  lips  remained  closed,  and  her  eyes 
gS  dimly  intoPvacancy  as  though  a  catalepsy  had  seized 

hC<-<  Mistress  !  Mistress  !  "  cried  the  dwarf  again  with  grow- 
ing agitation.     "What  is  the  matter?  shall  I  call  thy 

^Kffi  made  a  sign  with  her  hand,  and  cried  feebly  : 

"^SSSS^to^^y,  the  blood  mounted 
to Sr  cheeks  and  her  flashing  eyes  ;  she  trod ;  upo^the 

Now  envy  can  point  at  us  with  spiteful  joy-and  a  minute 
ago  I  walpraisingthisday  !    They  »y  oneshodd  «Wbit 

not  knoTof  one  s  hopes  and  joys,  for  they  too  are  envious 

^gSnte  leaned  her  head  against  the  palm-tree.^ 

-Thou  speakest  of  shame,  and  not  of  death,  said 
Nemu  <  and  I  learned  from  thee  that  one  should  give  noth- 

^iTw^^^Sd  ^  on  the  agitated 
woman     Quickly  and  vehemently  she  turned  upon  the 

d"<YouTgclever,  and  faithful  too  so  listen  !  but  if  you 
-^Z^^^Z^^s  met 
^fsplk"' hlSSdS;  «  and  trust  me.    Perhaps  I  can  be  of 

wha?Sefe»  said  Katuti,  la^;«™3 


UARDA. 


135 


quick,  fly ;  tell  him  I  am  suddenly  taken  ill,  very  ill ;  I 
cannot  see  him,  not  now  !    No  one  is  to  be  admitted — 
no  one,  do  you  hear?" 
The  dwarf  went. 

When  he  came  back  after  he  had  fulfilled  his  errand,  he 
found  his  mistress  still  in  a  fever  of  excitement. 

"  Listen,"  she  said  ;  ' 'first  the  smaller  matter,  then  the 
frightful,  the  unspeakable.  Rameses  loads  Mena  with 
marks  of  his  favor.  It  came  to  a  division  of  the  spoils  of 
war,  for  the  year  ;  a  great  heap  of  treasure  lay  ready  for 
each  of  his  followers,  and  the  charioteer  had  to  choose 
before  all  the  others. " 

"Well?"  said  the  dwarf. 

"Well  !  "  echoed  Katuti.  "Weil !  how  did  the  worthy 
householder  care  for  his  belongings  at  home,  how  did  he 
seek  to  relieve  his  indebted  estate  ?  It  is  disgraceful,  hid- 
eous !  He  passed  by  the  silver,  the  gold,  the  jewels,  with 
a  laugh  ;  and  took  the  captive  daughter  "of  the  Danaid 
princes,  and  led  her  into  his  tent." 

"Shameful !"  muttered  the  dwarf. 

"  Poor,  poor  Nefert !  "  cried  Katuti,  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"And  what  more  ?  "  asked  Nemu,  hastily. 

" That,"  said  Katuti,  "that  is— but  I  will  keep  calm- 
quite  calm  and  quiet.  You  know  my  son.  He  is  heed- 
less, but  he  loves  me  and  his  sister  more  than  anything  in 
the  world.  I,  fool  as  I  was,  to  persuade  him  to  economy, 
had  vividly  described  our  evil  plight,  and  after  that  dis- 
graceful conduct  of  Mena  he  thought  of  us  and  of  our 
anxieties.  His  share  of  the  booty  was  small,  and  could 
not  help  us.  His  comrades  threw  dice  for  the  shares  they 
had  obtained — he  staked  his  to  win  more  for  us.  He  lost 
— all — all — and  at  last  against  an  enormous  sum,  still 
thinking  of  us,  and  only  of  us,  he  staked  the  mummy  of 
his  dead  father.  *  He  lost.  If  he  does  not  redeem  the 
pledge  before  the  expiration  of  the  third  month,  he  will 

*  It  was  a  king  of  the  fourth  dynasty,  named  Asychis  by  Herodotus, 
who,  it  is  admitted,  was  the  first  to  pledge  the  mummies  of  his  ancestors. 
"  He  who  stakes  this  pledge  and  fails  to  redeem  the  debt  shall,  after  his 
death,  rest  neither  in  his  father's  tomb  nor  in  any  other,  and  sepulture 
shall  be  denied  to  his  descendants.' '    Herod,  ii.,  136. 


,36  UARDA. 


fall  into  infamy,*  the  mummy  will  belong  to  the  winner, 

- 

«  It  is  horrible,  yet  all  is  not  lost.    How  much  is  me 
sounded  like  a  heavy  curse,  when  Katuti  replied, 
"ffiSSa:  lsp  hadstung him  :  "  Who 
d^ne°^/Xmor? 

«  who  has  already  gambled  away  the  inheritance  of  his 

fa^mtiTlhiSter;mit  one  grain \  of  wheat  of  his  claim," 

my^on1  S  to  him 
pened?    The  poor  child  implores  me  to  ask  the  assistance 

°f  ^SfThe^egent?"  said  the  dwarf,  shaking  his  big  head. 

''^knowt'as  matters  now  stand;  but  his  place,  his 

^-Mistress"  said  the  dwarf,  and  deep  purpose  rang  in 

thy  confidence  and  freedom  will  be  gone  anu 
of  him.    Thou  knowest  his  circumstances.  . 

•  This  it  would  appear  was  the  heaviest  punishment  which  could  fall 
on  an  Egyptian  soldier.    Diod.  i,t  7*- 
t  £  6,750  sterling. 


UARDA. 


*37 


thyself  hast  forced  him  to  enormous  expenses.  He  has 
won  the  people  of  Thebes  with  dazzling  festive  displays  ; 
as  guardian  of  Apis  *  he  gave  a  large  donation  to  Memphis  ; 
he  bestowed  thousands  on  the  leaders  of  the  troops  sent 
into  Ethiopia,  which  were  equipped  by  him  ;  what  his  spies 
cost  him  at  the  camp  of  the  king  thou  knowest.  He  has 
borrowed  sums  of  money  from  most  of  the  rich  men  in 
the  country,  and  that  is  well,  for  so  many  creditors  are  so 
many  allies.  The  regent  is  a  bad  debtor  ;  but  the  King 
Ani,  they  reckon,  will  be  a  grateful  payer." 

Katuti  looked  at  the  dwarf  in  astonishment. 

"  You  know  men  !  "  she  said. 

' 'To  my  sorrow  !"  replied  Nemu.  "Do  not  apply  to 
the  regent,  and  before  thou  dost  sacrifice  the  labor  of  years, 
and  thy  future  greatness,  and  that  of  those  near  to  thee, 
sacrifice  thy  son's  honor." 

"And  my  husband's  and  my  own?"  exclaimed  Katuti. 
"  How  can  you  know  what  that  is  !  Honor  is  a  word  that 
the  slave  may  utter,  but  whose  meaning  he  can  never  com- 
prehend ;  you  rub  the  weals  that  are  raised  on  you  by 
blows  ;  to  me  every  finger  pointed  at  me  in  scorn  makes 
a  wound  like  an  ashwood  lance  with  a  poisoned  tip  of  brass. 
Oh  ye  holy  gods  !  who  can  help  us  ? " 

The  miserable  woman  pressed  her  hands  over  her  eyes, 
as  if  to  shut  out  the  sight  of  her  own  disgrace. 

The  dwarf  looked  up  at  her  compassionately,  and  said, 
in  a  changed  tone : 

"Dost  thou  remember  the  diamond  which  fell  out  of 
Nefert's  handsomest  ring?  We  hunted  for  it,  and  could 
not  find  it.  Next  day,  as  I  was  going  through  the  room, 
I  trod  on  something  hard  ;  I  stooped  down  and  found  the 
stone.  What  the  noble  organ  of  sight,  the  eye,  overlooked, 
the  callous  despised  sole  of  the  foot  found  ;  and  perhaps 
the  small  slave,  Nemu,  who  knows  nothing  of  honor,  may 
succeed  in  finding  a  mode  of  escape  which  is  not  revealed 
to  the  lofty  soul  of  his  mistress  !  " 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?  "  asked  Katuti. 

*  When  Apis  (the  sacred  bull)  died  under  Ptolemy  I.  Soter,  his  keepers 
spent  not  only  the  money  which  they  had  received  for  his  maintenance, 
in  his  obsequies,  but  borrowed  fifty  talents  of  silver  (^11,250)  from  the 
king.  In  the  time  of  Diodorus  one  hundred  talents  were  spent  for  the 
same  purpose. 


UARDA. 


t  "Escape/' answered  the  dwarf.  ''Is  it  true  that  thy 
sister  Setchem  has  visited  thee,  and  that  you  are  recon- 
ciled ? " 

"She  offered  me  her  hand,  and  I  took  it !  " 

"Then  go  to  her.  Men  are  nevermore  helpful  than 
after  a  reconciliation.  The  enmity  they  have  driven  out, 
seems  to  leave,  as  it  were,  a  freshly-healed  wound  which 
must  be  touched  with  caution  ;  and  Setchem  is  of  thy  own 
blood,  and  kind-hearted." 

"She  is  not  rich,"  replied  Katuti.  "Every  palm  in 
her  garden  comes  from  her  husband,  and  belongs  to  her 
children/' 

"Paaker,  too,  was  wTith  you  ?  " 

"Certainly  only  by  the  entreaty  of  his  mother — he  hates 
my  son-in-law." 

"  I  know  it,"  muttered  the  dwarf,  "but  if  Nefert  would 
ask  him  ?  " 

The  widow  drew  herself  up  indignantly.  She  felt  that 
she  had  allowed  the  dwarf  too  much  freedom,  and  ordered 
him  to  leave  her  alone. 

Nemu  kissed  her  robe  and  asked,  timidly  : 
'Shall  I  forget  that  thou  hast  trusted  me,  or  am  I  per- 
mitted to  consider  further  as  to  thy  son's  safety  ?  " 

Katuti  stood  for  a  moment  undecided,  then  she 
said  : 

"You  were  clever  enough  to  find  what  I  carelessly 
dropped  ;  perhaps  some  god  may  show  you  what  I  ought 
to  do.    Now  leave  me." 

"Wilt  thou  want  me  early  to-morrow?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  will  go  to  the  Necropolis,  and  offer  a 
sacrifice." 

"Go  !  "  said  Katuti,  and  went  toward  the  house  with 
the  fatal  letter  in  her  hand. 

Nemu  stayed  behind  alone  ;  he  looked  thoughtfully  at 
the  ground,  murmuring  to  himself  : 

' '  She  must  not  lose  her  honor  ;  not  at  present,  or  indeed 
all  will  be  lost.  What  is  this  honor  ?  "We  all  come  into 
the  world  without  it,  and  most  of  us  go  to  the  grave  with- 
out knowing  it,  and  very  good  folks  notwithstanding. 
Only  a  few  who  are  rich  and  idle  weave  it  in  with  the 


UARDA. 


*39 


homely  stuff  of  their  souls,  as  the  Kuschites*  do  their 
hair  with  grease  and  oils,  till  it  forms  a  cap  of  which, 
though  it  disfigures  them,  they  are  so  proud  that  they 
would  rather  have  their  ears  cut  off  than  the  monstrous 
thing.  I  see,  I  see — but  before  I  open  my  mouth  I  will  go 
to  my  mother.    She  knows  more  than  twenty  prophets." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Before  the  sun  had  risen  the  next  morning,  Nemu  got 
himself  ferried  over  the  Nile,  with  the  small  white  ass 
which  Menas  deceased  father  had  given  him  many  years 
before.  He  availed  himself  of  the  cool  hour  which  pre- 
cedes the  rising  of  the  sun  for  his  ride  through  the 
Necropolis. 

Well  acquainted  as  he  was  with  every  stock  and  stone, 
he  avoided  the  high  roads  which  led  to  the  goal  of  his  ex- 
pedition, and  trotted  toward  the  hill  which  divides  the 
valley  of  the  royal  tombs  from  the  plain  of  the  Nile. 

Before  him  opened  a  noble  amphitheater  of  lofty  lime- 
stone peaks,  the  background  of  the  stately  terrace-temple 
which  the  proud  ancestress  of  two  kings  of  the  fallen 
family,  the  great  Hatasu,  had  erected  to  their  memory, 
and  to  the  Goddess  Hathor. 

Nemu  left  the  sanctuary  to  his  left,  and  rode  up  the 
steep  hill-path  which  was  the  nearest  way  from  the  plain 
to  the  valley  of  the  tombs. 

Below  him  lay  a  bird's  eye  view  of  the  terrace-building 
of  Hatasu,  and  before  him,  still  slumbering  in  cool  dawn, 
was  the  Necropolis  with  its  houses  and  temples  and  colos- 
sal statues,  the  broad  Nile  glistening  with  white  sails  under 
the  morning  mist  ;  and,  in  the  distant  east,  rosy  with  the 
coming  sun,  stood  Thebes  and  her  gigantic  temples. 

But  the  dwarf  saw  nothing  of  the  glorious  panorama 
that  lay  at  his  feet  ;  absorbed  in  thought,  and  stooping 
over  the  neck  of  his  ass,  he  let  the  panting  beast  climb 
and  rest  at  its  pleasure. 

*  The  monuments  show  us  that  the  ancient  negroes  of  the  upper  Nile 
were  devoted  to  these  repulsive  fashions,  as  their  modern  descendants 
are. 


140 


UARDA. 


When  he  had  reached  half  the  height  of  the  hill,  he  per- 
ceived the  sound  of  footsteps  coming  nearer  and  nearer  to 
him. 

The  vigorous  walker  had  soon  reached  him,  and  bid  him 
good-morning,  which  he  civilly  returned. 

The  hill-path  was  narrow,  and  when  Nemu  observed 
that  the  man  who  followed  him  was  a  priest,  he  drew  up 
his  donkey  on  a  level  spot,  and  said,  reverently  : 

"Pass  on,  holy  father;  for  thy  two  feet  carry  thee 
quicker  than  my  four. " 

"A  sufferer  needs  my  help,"  replied  the  leech  Neb- 
secht,  Pentaur's  friend,  whom  we  have  already  seen  in  the 
House  of  Seti,  and  by  the  bed  of  the  paraschites'  daughter  ; 
and  he  hastened  on  so  as  to  gain  on  the  slow  pace  of  the 
rider. 

Then  rose  the  glowing  disk  of  the  sun  above  the  eastern 
horizon,  and  from  the  sanctuaries  below  the  travelers  rose 
up  the  pious  many-voiced  chant  of  praise. 

Nemu  slipped  off  his  ass,  and  assumed  an  attitude  of 
prayer ;  the  priest  did  the  same  ;  but  while  the  dwarf  de- 
voutly fixed  his  eyes  on  the  new  birth  of  the  Sun-god 
from  the  eastern  range,  the  priest's  eyes  wandered  to  the 
earth,  and  his  raised  hand  fell  to  pick  up  a  rare  fossil  shell 
which  lay  on  the  path. 

In  a  few  minutes  Nebsecht  rose,  and  Nemu  followed 
him. 

"It  is  a  fine  morning,"  said  the  dwarf;  "the  holy 
fathers  down  there  seem  more  cheerful  to-day  than 
usual." 

The  surgeon  laughed  assent.  "Do  you  belong  to  the 
Necropolis  ?  "  he  said.     "Who  here  keeps  dwarfs ?  " 

"No  one,"  answered  the  little  man.  "But  I  will  ask 
thee  a  question.  Who  that  lives  here  behind  the  hill  is  of 
so  much  importance  that  a  leech  from  the  House  of  Seti 
sacrifices  his  night's  rest  for  him  ?  " 

"  The  one  I  visit  is  mean,  but  the  suffering  is  great," 
answered  Nebsecht. 

Nemu  looked  at  him  with  admiration,  and  muttered, 

"That  is  noble,   that  is  "but  he  did  not  finish  his 

speech  ;  he  struck  his  brow  and  exclaimed,  ' '  You  are  going, 
by  the  desire  of  the  Princess  Bent-Anat,  to  the  child  of  the 
paraschites  that  was  run  over.    I  guessed  as  much.  The 


UARDA. 


141 


food  must  have  an  excellent  after-taste,  if  a  gentleman 
rises  so  early  to  eat  it.    How  is  the  poor  child  doing  ?  " 

There  was  so  much  warmth  in  these  last  words  that  Neb- 
secht,  who  had  thought  the  dwarfs  reproach  uncalled  for, 
answered  in  a  friendly  tone  : 

"  Not  so  badly  ;  she  may  be  saved." 

' '  The  gods  be  praised  ?  "  exclaimed  Nemu,  while  the 
priest  passed  on. 

Nebsecht  went  up  and  down  the  hillside  at  a  redoubled 
pace,  and  had  long  taken  his  place  by  the  couch  of 
the  wounded  Uarda  in  the  hovel  of  the  paraschites,  when 
Nemu  drew  near  to  the  abode  of  his  Mother  Hekt,  from 
whom  Paaker  had  received  the  philter. 

The  old  woman  sat  before  the  door  of  her  cave. 

Near  her  lay  a  board,  fitted  with  cross-pieces,  between 
which  a  little  boy  was  stretched  in  such  a  way  that  they 
touched  his  head  and  his  feet. 

Hekt  understood  the  art  of  making  dwarfs;  playthings  in 
human  form  were  well  paid  for,  and  the  child  on  the  rack 
with  his  pretty  little  face,  promised  to  be  a  valuable 
article. 

As  soon  as  the  sorceress  saw  some  one  approaching,  she 
stooped  over  the  child,  took  him  up,  board  and  all,  in  her 
arms,  and  carried  him  into  the  cave.  Then  she  said, 
sternly  : 

"  If  you  move,  little  one,  I  will  flog  you.  Now  let  me 
tie  you." 

"  Don't  tie  me,"  said  the  child,  "  I  will  be  good  and  lie 
still." 

"  Stretch  yourself  out,"  ordered  the  old  woman,  and 
tied  the  child  with  a  rope  to  the  board.  ' '  If  you  are  quiet, 
111  give  you  a  honey-cake  by  and  by,  and  let  you  play 
with  the  young  chickens." 

The  child  was  quiet,  and  a  soft  smile  of  delight  and 
hope  sparkled  in  his  pretty  eyes.  His  little  hand  caught 
the  dress  of  the  old  woman,  and  with  the  sweetest  coax- 
ing tone,  which  God  bestows  on  the  innocent  voices  of 
children,  he  said  : 

"  I  will  be  as  still  as  a  mouse,  and  no  one  shall  know 
that  I  am  here  ;  but  if  you  give  me  the  honey-cake  you 
will  untie  me  for  a  little,  and  let  me  go  to  Uarda." 

"  She  is  ill — what  do  you  want  there  ?  " 


UARDA. 


"  I  would  take  her  the  cake,  "  said  the  child,  and  his 

eyes  glistened  with  tears. 

The  old  woman  touched  the  child's  chin  with  her  ringer, 
and  some  mysterious  power  prompted  her  to  bend  over 
him  to  kiss  him.  But  before  her  lips  had  touched  his  face 
she  turned  away,  and  said,  in  a  hard  tone  : 

"  Lie  still !  by  and  by  we  will  see.  "  Then  she  stooped, 
and  threw  a  brown  sack  over  the  child.  She  went  back 
into  the  open  air,  greeted  Nemu,  entertained  him  with 
milk,  bread  and  honey,  gave  him  news  of  the  girl  who  had 
been  run  over,  for  he  seemed  to  take  her  misfortune  very 
much  to  heart,  and  finally  asked  : 

"What  brings  you  here?  The  Nile  was  still  narrow 
when  you  last  found  your  way  to  me,  and  now  it  has  been 
falling  some  time.*  Are  you  sent  by  your  mistress,  or  do 
you  want  my  help  ?  All  the  world  is  alike.  No  one  goes 
to  see  any  one  else  unless  he  wants  to  make  use  of  him. 
What  shall  I  give  you  ?  " 

"  I  want  nothing,"  said  the  dwarf,  "but  " 

"You  are  commissioned  by  a  third  person,"  said  the 
witch,  laughing.  "  It  is  the  same  thing.  WThoever  wants 
a  thing  for  some  one  else  only  thinks  of  his  own  interest. " 

' '  May  be, "  said  Nemu.  ' '  At  any  rate  your  words  show 
that  you  have  not  grown  unwiser  since  I  saw  you  last — 
and  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  I  want  your  advice." 

"Advice  is  cheap.  What  is  going  on  out  there?" 
Nemu  related  to  his  mother  shortly,  clearly,  and  without 
reserve,  what  was  plotting  in  his  mistress'  house,  and  the 
frightful  disgrace  with  which  she  was  threatened  through 
her  son. 

The  old  woman  shook  her  gray  head  thoughtfully  sev- 
eral times  ;  but  she  let  the  little  man  go  on  to  the  end  of 
his  story  without  interrupting  him.  Then  she  asked,  and 
her  eyes  flashed  as  she  spoke  : 

"And  you  really  believe  that  you  will  succeed  in  put- 

*  This  is  in  the  beginning  of  November.  The  Nile  begins  slowly  to 
rise  early  in  June;  between  the  fifteenth  and  twentieth  of  July  it  sud- 
denly swells  rapidly,  and  in  the  first  half  of  October,  not,  as  was 
formerly  supposed,  at  the  end  of  September,  the  inundation  reaches  its 
highest  level.  Heinrich  Barth  established  these  data  beyond  dispute. 
After  the  water  has  begun  to  sink  it  rises  once  more  in  October  and  to  a 
higher  level  than  before.  Then  it  soon  falls,  at  first  slowly,  but  by  de- 
grees quicker  and  quicker. 


UARDA. 


143 


ting  the  sparrow  on  the  eagle's  perch — Ani  on  the  throne 
of  Rameses  ?  " 

"The  troops  fighting  in  Ethiopia  are  for  us,"  cried 
Nemu.  "  The  priests  declare  themselves  against  the  king, 
and  recognize  in  Ani  the  genuine  blood  of  Ra." 

"That  is  much/'  said  the  old  woman. 

"And  many  dogs  are  the  death  of  the  gazelle,"  said 
Nemu,  laughing. 

"But  Rameses  is  not  a  gazelle  to  run,  but  a  lion," 
said  the  old  woman,  gravely.  "You  are  playing  a  high 
game. " 

"We  know  it,"  answered  Nemu.  "But  it  is  for  high 
stakes — there  is  much  to  win." 

"And  all  to  lose/'  muttered  the  old  woman,  passing 
her  fingers  round  her  scraggy  neck.  j'Well,  do  as  you 
please — it  is  all  the  same  to  me  who  it  is  sends  the  young 
to  be  killed,  and  drives  the  old  folks'  cattle  from  the  field. 
What  do  they  want  with  me  ?  " 

"  No  one  has  sent  me,"  answered  the  dwarf.  "I  come 
of  my  own  free  fancy  to  ask  you  what  Katuti  must  do  to 
save  her  son  and  her  house  from  dishonor." 

"Hm!"  hummed  the  witch,  looking  at  Nemu  while 
she  raised  herself  on  her  stick.  "What  has  come  to  you 
that  you  take  the  fate  of  these  great  people  to  heart  as  if 
it  were  your  own  ?  " 

The  dwarf  reddened,  and  answered,  hesitatingly : 
"Katuti  is  a  good  mistress,  and,  if  things  go  well  with 
her,  there  may  be  windfalls  for  you  and  me." 

Hekt  shook  her  head  doubtfully. 

"A  loaf  for  you,  perhaps,  and  a  crumb  for  me  !  "  she 
said.  "There  is  more  than  that  in  your  mind,  and  I  can 
read  your  heart  as  if  you  were  a  ripped-up  raven.  You 
are  one  of  those  who  can  never  keep  their  fingers  at  rest, 
and  must  knead  everybody's  dough  ;  must  push,  and  drive 
and  stir  something.  Every  jacket  is  too  tight  for  you. 
If  you  were  three  feet  taller,  and  the  son  of  a  priest,  you 
might  have  gone  far.  High  you  will  go,  and  high  you 
will  end  ;  as  the  friend  of  a  king — or  on  the  gallows." 

The  old  woman  laughed  ;  but  Nemu  bit  his  lips,  and 
said  : 

"  If  you  had  sent  me  to  school,  and  if  I  were  not  the  son 
of  a  witch,  and  a  dwarf,  I  would  play  with  men  as  they 


I44  UARDA. 

played  with  me  ;  for  I  am  cleverer  than  all  of  them,  and 
none  of  their  plans  are  hidden  from  me.  A  hundred 
roads  lie  before  me,  when  they  don't  know  whether  to  go 
out  or  in  ;  and  where  they  rush  heedlessly  forward  I  see 
the  abyss  that  they  are  running-  to. " 

"And  nevertheless  you  come  to  me?"  said  the  old 
woman  sarcastically. 

"I  want  your  advice,"  said  Nemu,  seriously.  "Four 
eyes  see  more  than  one,  and  the  impartial  looker-on  sees 
clearer  than  the  player  ;  besides  you  are  bound  to  help 
me. " 

The  old  woman  laughed  loud  in  astonishment. 
"  Bound  !  "  she  said,  "  I  ?  and  to  what,  if  you  please  ?  " 

"To  help  me,"  replied  the  dwarf,  half  in  entreaty,  and  ' 
half  in  reproach.     "You  deprived  me  of  my  growth,  and 
reduced  me  to  a  cripple." 

"Because  no  one  is  better  off  than  you  dwarfs,"  inter- 
rupted the  witch. 

Nemu  shook  his  .head,  and  answered  sadly  : 

"You  have  often  said  so — and  perhaps  for  many  others, 
who  are  born  in  misery  like  me — perhaps — you  are  right  ; 
but  for  me — you  have  spoiled  my  life  ;  you  have  crippled 
not  my  body  only,  but  my  soul,  and  have  condemned  me 
to  sufferings  that  are  nameless  and  unutterable." 

The  dwarfs  big  head  sank  on  his  breast,  and  with  his 
left  hand  he  pressed  his  heart. 

The  old  woman  went  up  to  him  kindly. 

"What  ails  you  ?  "  she  asked.  "I  thought  it  was  well 
with  you  in  Mena's  house." 

"You  thought  so  ?  "  cried  the  dwarf.  "You  who  show 
me  as  in  a  mirror  wThat  I  am,  and  how  mysterious  powers 
throng  and  stir  in  me?  You  made  me  what  I  am  by  your 
arts  ;  you  sold  me  to  the  treasurer  of  Rameses,  and  he 
gave  me  to  the  father  of  Mena,  his  brother-in-law.  Fif- 
teen years  ago  !  I  was  a  young  man  then,  a  youth  like  any 
other,  only  more  passionate,  more  restless  and  fiery  than 
they.  I  was  given  as  a  plaything  to  the  young  Mena,  and 
he  harnessed  me  to  his  little  chariot,  and  dressed  me  out 
with  ribbons  and  feathers,  and  flogged  me  when  I  did  not 
go  fast  enough.  How  the  girl — for  whom  I  would  have 
given  my  life — the  porter's  daughter,  laughed  when  I, 
dressed  up  in  motley,  hopped  panting  in  front  of  the 


UARDA.  145 

chariot,  and  the  young  lord's  whip  whistled  in  my  ears, 
wringing  the  sweat  from  my  brow,  and  the  blood  from  my 
broken  heart.  Then  Mena's  father  died,  the  boy  went 
to  school,  and  I  waited  on  the  wife  of  his  steward,  whom 
Katuti  banished  to  Hermonthis.  That  was  a  time  !  The 
little  daughter  of  the  house  made  a  doll  of  me,  laid  me  in 
the  cradle,  and  made  me  shut  my  eyes  and  pretend  to  sleep, 
while  love  and  hatred,  and  great  projects  were  strong 
within  me.  If  I  tried  to  resist  they  beat  me  with  rods  ; 
and  when  once,  in  a  rage,  I  forgot  myself,  and  hit  little 
Mertitefs  hard,  Mena,  who  came  in,  hung  me  up  in  the 
store-room  to  a  nail  by  my  girdle,  and  left  me  to  swing 
there  ;  he  said  he  had  forgotten  to  take  me  down  again. 
The  rats  fell  upon  me  ;  here  are  the  scars,  these  little  white 
spots  here — look  !  They  perhaps  will  some  day  wear  out, 
but  the  wounds  that  my  spirit  received  in  those  hours 
have  not  yet  ceased  to  bleed.  Then  Mena  married  Nefert, 
and,  with  her,  his  mother-in-law  Katuti  came  into  the 
house.  She  took  me  from  the  steward,  I  became  indis- 
pensable to  her  ;  she  treats  me  like  a  man,  she  values  my 
intelligence  and  listens  to  my  advice — therefore  I  will 
make  her  great,  and  with  her,  and  through  her,  I  will  wax 
mighty.  If  Ani  mounts  the  throne,  we  will  guide  him — 
you,  and  I,  and  she  !  Rameses,  must  fall,  and  with  him 
Mena,  the  boy  who  degraded  my  bodv  and  poisoned  my 
soul ! " 

During  this  speech  the  old  woman  had  stood  in  silence 
opposite  the  dwarf.  Now  she  sat  down  on  her  rough 
wooden  seat,  and  said,  while  she  proceeded  to  pluck  a 
lapwing  : 

"Now  I  understand  you;  you  wish  to  be  revenged. 
You  hope  to  rise  high,  and  I  am  to  whet  your  knife,  and 
hold  the  ladder  for  you.  Poor  little  man  !  There,  sit 
down — drink  a  gulp  of  milk  to  cool  you,  and  listen  to  my 
advice.  Katuti  wants  a  great  deal  of  money  to  escape 
dishonor.  She  need  only  pick  it  up — it  lies  at  her 
door." 

The  dwarf  looked  at  the  witch  in  astonishment. 
"The  Mohar  Paaker  is  her  sister  SetchenYs  son,  is  he 
not?" 

"As  you  say." 

"  Katuti  s  daughter  Nefert  is  the  wife  of  your  master 
10 


i46  UARDA. 

Mena,  and  another  would  like  to  tempt  the  neglected 
little  hen  into  his  yard."  . 

"You  mean  Paaker,  to  whom  Nefert  was  promised 
before  she  went  after  Mena."  „ 

"Paaker  was  with  me  the  day  before  yesterday. 

"With  you?" 

"Yes,  with  me,  with  old  Hekt— to  buy  a  love-philter. 
I  gave  him  one,  and  as  I  was  curious  I  went  after  him, 
saw  him  give  the  water  to  the  little  lady,  and  found  out 
her  name."  ,      .  r 

"And  Nefert  drank  the  magic  drink  ?    asked  the  dwart, 

horrified.  ,      u  . 

"  Vinegar  and  turnip  juice,"  laughed  the  old  witch.  A 
lord  who  comes  to  me  to  win  a  wife  is  ripe  for  anything. 
Let  Nefert  ask  Paaker  for  ^the  money,  and  the  young 
scapegraces' debts  are  paid." 

"Katuti  is  proud,  and  repulsed  me  severely  when  I  pro- 
posed this."  ;       ,„  „  „ 

"Then  she  must  sue  to  Paaker  herself  for  the  money. 
Go  back  to  him,  make  him  hope  that  Nefert  is  inclined  to 
him  tell  him  what  distresses  the  ladies,  and  if  he  refuses, 
but  only  if  he  refuses,  let  him  see  that  you  know  some- 
thing of  the  little  dose." 

The  dwarf  looked  meditatively  on  the  ground,  and  then 
said,  looking  admiringly  at  the  old  woman,  "That  is  the 

right  thing."  .  ,     ,         ,  „.  » 

"You  will  find  out  the  lie  without  my  telling  you 
mumbled  the  witch  ;  "  your  business  is  not  perhaps  such 
a  bad  one  as  it  seemed  to  me  at  first.  Katuti  may  thank 
the  ne'er-do-well  who  staked  his  fathers  corpse.  You 
don't  understand  me  ?  Well,  if  you  are  really  the  sharpest 
of  them  all  over  there,  what  must  the  others  be  ? 

"You  mean  that  people  will  speak  well  of  my  mistress 
for-  sacrificing  so  large  a  sum  for  the  sake——  _ 

"Whose  sake  ?  why  speak  well  of  her  ?  cried  the  old 
woman,  impatiently.  "  Here  we  deal  with  other  things 
with  actual  facts.  There  stands  Paaker-there  the  wife  of 
Mena  If  the  Mohar  sacrifices  a  fortune  for  Netert,  he 
will  be  her  master,  and  Katuti  will  not  stand  in  his  way  ; 
she  knows  well  enough  why  her  nephew  pays  for  her 
But  some  one  else  stops  the  way,  and  that  is  Mena.  it 
is  worth  while  to  get  him  out  of  the  way.    The  charioteer 


UARDA. 


147 


stands  close  to  the  Pharaoh,  and  the  noose  that  is  flung 
at  one  may  easily  fall  round  the  neck  of  the  other  too. 
Make  the  Mohar  your  ally,  and  it  may  easily  happen  that 
your  rat-bites  may  be  paid  for  with  mortal  wounds,  and 
Rameses  who,  if  you  marched  against  him  openly,  might 
blow  you  to  the  ground,  may  be  hit  by  a  lance  thrown 
from  an  ambush.  When  the  throne  is  clear,  the  weak 
legs  of  the  regent  may  succeed  in  clambering  up  to  it  with 
the  help  of  the  priests.  Here  you  sit — open-mouthed  ; 
and  I  have  told  you  nothing  that  you  might  not  have 
found  out  for  yourself.  " 

"You  are  a  perfect  cask  of  wisdom  !  "  exclaimed  the 
dwarf. 

"  And  now  you  will  go  away,"  said  Hekt,  "and  reveal 
your  schemes  to  your  mistress  and  the  regent,  and  they 
will  be  astonished  at  your  cleverness.  To-day  you  still 
know  that  I  have  shown  you  what  you  have  to  do  ;  to- 
morrow you  will  have  forgotten  it ;  and  the  day  after  to- 
morrow you  will  believe  yourself  possessed  by  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  nine  great  gods.  I  know  that ;  but  I  cannot 
give  anything  for  nothing.  You  live  by  your  smallness, 
another  makes  his  living  with  his  hard  hands,  I  earn  my 
scanty  bread  by  the  thoughts  of  my  brain.  Listen  !  when 
you  have  half  won  Paaker,  and  Ani  shows  himself  inclined 
to  make  use  of  him,  then  say  to  him  that  I  may  know 
a  secret — and  I  do  know  one,  I  alone — which  may  make 
the  Mohar  the  sport  of  his  wishes,  and  that  I  may  be  dis- 
posed to  sell  it." 

"That  shall  be  done!  certainly,  mother,"  cried  the 
dwarf.     ' '  What  do  you  wish  for  ?  " 

"Very  little,"  said  the  old  woman.  "Only  a  permit 
that  makes  me  free  to  do  and  to  practice  whatever  I  please, 
unmolested  even  by  the  priests,  and  to  receive  an  honor- 
able burial  after  my  death." 

: '  The  regent  will  hardly  agree  to  that ;  for  he  must  avoid 
everything  that  may  offend  the  servants  of  the  gods." 

"And  do  everything,"  retorted  the  old  woman,  "that 
can  degrade  Rameses  in  their  sight.  Ani,  do  you  hear, 
need  not  write  me  a  new  license,  but  only  renew  the  old 
one  granted  to  me  by  Rameses  when  I  cured  his  favorite 
horse.  They  burnt  it  with  my  other  possessions,  when 
they  plundered  my  house,  and  denounced  me  and  my 


UARDA. 


belongings  for  sorcery.  The  permit  of  Rameses  is  what 
I  want,  nothing  more." 

'  <  You  shall  have  it, "  said  the  dwarf.  1 '  Good-bye  ;  I  am 
charged  to  look  into  the  tomb  of  our  house,  and  see 
whether  the  offerings  for  the  dead  are  regularly  set  out ; 
to  pour  out  fresh  essences  and  have  various  things  re- 
newed. When  Sechet  has  ceased  to  rage,  and  it  is  cooler, 
I  shall  come  by  here  again,  for  I  should  like  to  call  on  the 
paraschites,  and  see  how  the  poor  child  is." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

During  this  conversation  two  men  had  been  busily 
occupied,  in  front  of  the  paraschites'  hut,  in  driving  piles 
into  the  earth,  and  stretching  a  torn  linen  cloth  upon  them. 

One  of  them,  old  Pinem,  whom  we  have  seen  tending 
his  grandchild,  requested  the  other  from  time  to  time  to 
consider  the  sick  girl  and  to  work  less  noisily. 

After  they  had  finished  their  simple  task,  and  spread  a 
^ouch  of  fresh  straw  under  the  awning,  they  too  sat  down 
on  the  earth,  and  looked  at  the  hut  before  which  the  sur- 
geon Nebsecht  was  sitting  waiting  till  the  sleeping  girl 
should  wake. 

"  Who  is  that?  "  asked  the  leech  of  the  old  man,  point- 
ing to  his  young  companion,  a  tall  sunburnt  soldier,  with 
a  bushy  red  beard. 

' 'My  son,"  replied  the  paraschites,  "who  is  just  re- 
turned from  Syria. " 

' <  Uarda's  father  ?  "  asked  Nebsecht. 

The  soldier  nodded  assent,  and  said  with  a  rough  voice, 
but  not  without  cordiality  : 

"No  one  could  guess  it  by  looking  at  us — she  is  so 
white  and  rosy.  Her  mother  was  a  foreigner,  and  she 
has  turned  out  as  delicate  as  she  was.  I  am  afraid  to 
touch  her  with  my  little  finger — and  there  comes  a  chariot 
over  the  brittle  doll,  and  does  not  quite  crush  her,  for  she 
is  still  alive." 

4 4  Without  the  help  of  this  holy  father,"  said  the  paras- 


UARDA. 


149 


chitee,  approaching  the  surgeon,  and  kissing  his  robe, 
4 'you  would  never  have  seen  her  alive  again.  May  the 
gods  reward  thee  for  what  thou  hast  done  for  us  poor 
folks  !  " 

' 'And  we  can  pay  too,"  cried  the  soldier,  slapping  a 
full  purse  that  hung  at  his  girdle.  ' '  We  have  taken 
plunder  in  Syria,  and  I  will  buy  a  calf,  and  give  it  to  thy 
temple." 

"Offer  a  beast  of  dough,  rather,"  replied  Nebsecht, 
"and  if  you  wish  to  show  yourself  grateful  to  me,  give 
the  money  to  your  father,  so  that  he  may  feed  and  nurse 
your  child  in  accordance  with  my  instructions." 

"Hm,"  murmured  the  soldier  ;  he  took  the  purse  from 
his  girdle,  flourished  it  in  his  hand,  and  said,  as  he  handed 
it  to  the  paraschites  : 

"I  should  have  liked  to  drink  it !  but  take  it,  father, 
for  the  child  and  my  mother." 

While  the  old  man  hesitatingly  put  out  his  hand  for  the 
rich  gift,  the  soldier  recollected  himself  and  said,  opening 
the  purse  : 

"Let  me  take  out  a  few  rings,  for  to-day  I  cannot  go 
dry.  I  have  two  or  three  comrades  lodging  in  the  Red 
Tavern.  That  is  right.  There — take  the  rest  of  the 
rubbish." 

Nebsecht  nodded  approvingly  at  the  soldier,  and  he,  as 
his  father  gratefully  kissed  the  surgeon's  hand,  exclaimed  : 

"Make  the  little  one  sound,  holy  father  !  It  is  all  over 
with  gifts  and  offerings,  for  I  have  nothing  left ;  but  there 
are  two  iron  fists  and  a  breast  like  the  wall  of  a  fortress. 
If  at  any  time  thou  dost  want  help,  call  me,  and  I  will 
protect  thee  against  twenty  enemies.  Thou  hast  saved 
my  child — good.  Life  for  life.  I  sign  myself  thy  blood- 
ally — there. " 

With  these  words  he  drew  his  poniard  out  of  his  girdle. 
He  scratched  his  arm,  and  let  a  few  drops  of  his  blood 
run  down  on  a  stone  at  the  feet  of  Nebsecht — "Look," 
he  said.  "There  is  my  bond,  Kaschta  has  signed  him- 
self thine,  and  thou  canst  dispose  of  my  life  as  of  thine 
own.    What  I  have  said,  I  have  said." 

"  I  am  a  man  of  peace,"  Nebsecht  stammered.  "  And 
my  white  robe  protects  me.  But  I  believe  our  patient  is 
awake. " 


UARDA. 


The  physician  rose,  and  entered  the  hut. 

Uarda's  pretty  head  lay  on  her  grandmother's  lap,  and 
her  large  blue  eyes  turned  contentedly  on  the  priest. 

"  She  might  get  up  and  go  out  in  the  air,"  said  the  old 
woman.     "  She  has  slept  long  and  soundly/' 

The  surgeon  examined  her  pulse,  and  her  wound,  on 
which  green  leaves  were  laid. 

"  Excellent,"  he  said;  "who  gave  you  this  healing 
herb  ?  " 

The  old  woman  shuddered,  and  hesitated  ;  but  Uarda 
said,  fearlessly  :  "  Old  Hekt,  who  lives  over  there  in  the 
black  cave." 

"The  witch  !  "  muttered  Nebsecht.  "But  we  will  let 
the  leaves  remain  ;  it  they  do  good  it  is  no  matter  where 
they  came  from." 

"Hekt  tasted  the  drops  thou  didst  give  her,"  said  the 
old  woman,  "  and  agreed  that  they  were  good." 

"Then  we  are  satisfied  with  each  other,"  answered 
Nebsecht,  with  a  smile  of  amusement.  "We  will  carry 
you  now  into  the  open  air,  little  maid ;  for  the  air  in  here 
is  as  heavy  as  lead,  and  your  damaged  lung  requires  lighter 
nourishment." 

"Yes,  let  me  go  out,"  said  the  girl.  "It  is  well  that 
thou  hast  not  brought  back  the  other  with  thee,  who  tor- 
mented me  with  his  vows." 

"  You  mean  blind  Teta,"  said  Nebsecht ;  "he  will  not 
come  again  ;  but  the  young  priest  who  soothed  your  father, 
when  he  repulsed  the  princess,  will  visit  you.  He  is 
kindly  disposed,  and  you  should — you  should  99 

"  Pentaur  will  come?  "  said  the  girl,  eagerly. 

"  Before  midday.    But  how  do  you  know  his  name  ?  " 

"I  know  him,"  said  Uarda,  decidedly. 

The  surgeon  looked  at  her  surprised. 

' '  You  must  not  talk  any  more, "  he  said,  ' '  for  your  cheeks 
are  glowing,  and  the  fever  may  return.  We  have  arranged 
a  tent  for  you,  and  now  we  will  carry  you  into  the  open 
air." 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  girl.  "  Grandmother,  do  my  hair 
for  me,  it  is  so  heavy." 

With  these  words  she  endeavored  to  part  her  mass 
of  long,  reddish-brown  hair  with  her  slender  hands,  and 


UARDA. 


to  free  it  from  the  straws  that  had  become  entangled 
in  it. 

"  Lie  still,"  said  the  surgeon  in  a  warning  voice. 

"  But  it  is  so  heavy/'  said  the  sick  girl,  smiling  and 
showing  Nebsecht  her  abundant  wealth  of  golden  hair 
as  if  it  were  a  fatiguing  burden.  "  Come,  grandmother, 
and  help  me." 

The  old  woman  leaned  over  the  child,  and  combed  her 
long  locks  carefully  with  a  coarse  comb  made  of  gray  horn, 
gently  disengaged  the  straws  from  the  golden  tangle, 
and  at  last  laid  two  thick  long  plaits  on  her  granddaugh- 
ter's shoulders. 

Nebsecht  knew  that  every  movement  of  the  wounded 
girl  might  do  mischief,  and  his  impulse  was  to  stop  the  old 
woman's  proceedings,  but  his  tongue  seemed  spell-bound. 
Surprised,  motionless,  and  with  crimson  cheeks,  he  stood 
opposite  the  girl,  and  his  eyes  followed  every  movement  of 
her  hands  with  anxious  observation. 

She  did  not  notice  him. 

When  the  old  woman  laid  down  the  comb  Uarda  drew  a 
long  breath. 

"  Grandmother,"  she  said,  "  give  me  the  mirror." 

The  old  woman  brought  a  shard  of  dimly  glazed,  baked 
clay.  The  girl  turned  to  the  light,  contemplated  the  un- 
defined reflection  for  a  moment,  and  said  : 

"  I  have  not  seen  a  flower  for  so  long,  grandmother." 

'  'Wait,  child,"  she  replied;  she  took  from  a  jug  the  rose 
which  the  princess  had  laid  on  the  bosom  of  her  grand- 
child, and  offered  it  to  her.  Before  Uarda  could  take  it, 
the  withered  petals  fell,  and  dropped  upon  her.  The  sur- 
geon stooped,  gathered  them  up,  and  put  them  into  the 
child's  hand. 

"  How  good  you  are  !  "  she  said  ;  "  I  am  called  Uarda 
— like  this  flower — and  I  love  roses  and  the  fresh  air. 
Will  you  carry  me  out  now  ?  " 

Nebsecht  called  the  paraschites,  who  came  into  the  hut 
with  his  son,  and  they  carried  the  girl  out  into  the  air  and 
laid  her  under  the  humble  tent  they  had  contrived  for  her. 
The  soldier's  knees  trembled  while  he  held  the  light  bur- 
den of  his  daughter's  weight  in  his  strong  hands,  and 
he  sighed  when  he  laid  her  carefully  down  on  the  mat. 

"  How  blue  the  sky  is  I  "  cried  Uarda.    "  Ah  !  grand- 


UARDA. 


father  has  watered  my  pomegranate  ;  I  thought  so  !  and 
there  come  my  doves  !  Give  me  some  corn  in  my  hand, 
grandmother.     How  pleased  they  are." 

The  graceful  birds,  with  black  rings  round  their  reddish- 
gray  necks,  flew  confidingly  to  her,  and  took  the  corn  that 
she  playfully  laid  between  her  lips. 

Nebsecht  looked  on  with  astonishment  at  this  pretty 
play.  He  felt  as  if  anew  world  had  opened  to  him,  and 
some  new  sense,  hitherto  unknown  to  him,  had  been  re- 
vealed to  him  within  his  breast.  He  silently  sat  down  in 
front  of  the  hut,  and  drew  the  picture  of  a  rose  on  the 
sand  with  a  reed-stem  that  he  picked  up. 

Perfect  stillness  was  around  him  ;  the  doves  even  had 
flown  up,  and  settled  on  the  roof.  Presently  the  dog 
barked,  steps  approached;  Uarda  lifted  herself  up  and 
said  : 

"  Grandmother,  it  is  the  priest  Pentaur." 

"  Who  told  you  ?  "  asked  the  old  woman. 

"  I  know  it,"  answered  the  girl,  decidedly;  and  in  a 
few  moments  a  sonorous  voice  cried  :  "  Good-day  to  you. 
How  is  your  invalid  ? 

Pentaur  was  soon  standing  by  Uarda  ;  pleased  to  hear 
Nebsecht's  good  report,  and  with  the  sweet  face  of  the 
girl.  He  had  some  flowers  in  his  hand,  that  a  happy 
maiden  had  laid  on  the  altar  of  the  Goddess  Hathor,  which 
he  had  served  since  the  previous  day,  and  he  gave  them 
to  the  sick  girl,  who  took  them  with  a  blush,  and  held 
them  between  her  clasped  hands. 

"The  great  goddess  whom  I  serve  sends  you  these," 
said  Pentaur,  "and  they  will  bring  you  healing.  Con- 
tinue to  resemble  them.  You  are  pure  and  fair  like  them, 
and  your  course  henceforth  may  be  like  theirs.  As  the 
sun  gives  life  to  the  gray  horizon,  so  you  bring  joy  to  this 
dark  hut.  Preserve  your  innocence,  and  wherever  you 
go  you  will  bring  love,  as  flowers  spring  in  every  spot 
that  is  trodden  by  the  golden  foot  of  Hathor.*  May  her 
blessing  rest  upon  you  !  " 

He  had  spoken  the  last  words  half  to  the  old  couple  and 
half  to  Uarda,  and  was  already  turning  to  depart  when* 
behind  a  heap  of  maize  straw  that  lay  close  to  the  awning 

*  Hathor  is  frequently  called  "the  golden,"  particularly  at  Dendera. 
She  has  much  in  common  with  the  "golden  Aphrodite." 


UARDA. 


over  the  girl,  the  bitter  cry  of  a  child  was  heard,  and  a 
little  boy  came  forward  who  held,  as  high  as  he  could 
reach,  a  little  cake,  of  which  the  dog,  who  seemed  to  know 
him  well,  had  snatched  half. 

*  "  How  do  you  come  here,  Scherau?  "  the  paraschites 
asked  the  weeping  boy — the  unfortunate  child  that  Hekt 
was  bringing  up  as  a  dwarf. 

"  I  wanted/'  sobbed  the  little  one,  "  to  bring  the  cake 
to  Uarda.    She  is  ill — I  had  so  much  " 

"  Poor  child/'  said  the  paraschites,  stroking  the  boy's 
hair  ;  "  there — give  it  to  Uarda." 

Scherau  went  up  to  the  sick  girl,  knelt  down  by  her, 
and  whispered,  with  streaming  eyes  : 

"Take  it!  It  is  good,  and  very  sweet,  and  if  I  get 
another  cake,  and  Hekt  will  let  me  out,  I  will  bring  it  to 
you/' 

"  Thank  you,  good  little  Scherau/' said  Uarda,  kissing 
the  child.    Then  she  turned  to  Pentaur  and  said  : 

' '  For  weeks  he  has  had  nothing  but  papyrus  pith  and 
lotus-bread,*  and  now  he  brings  me  the  cake  which  grand- 
mother gave  old  Hekt  yesterday." 

The  child  blushed  all  over,  and  stammered  : 

It  is  only  half — but  I  did  not  touch  it.  Your  dog  bit 
out  this  piece,  and  this." 

He  touched  the  honey  with  the  tip  of  his  finger,  and  put 
it  to  his  lips.  "  I  was  a  long  time  behind  the  straw  there 
for  I  did  not  like  to  come  out  because  of  the  strangers 
there."  He  pointed  to  Nebsecht  and  Pentaur.  6  i  But  now 
I  must  go  home,"  he  cried. 

The  child  was  going,  but  Pentaur  stopped  him,  seized 
him,  lifted  him  up  in  his  arms  and  kissed  him  ;  saying,  as 
he  turned  to  Nebsecht : 

"They  were  wise,  who  represented  Horus — the  symbol 

*  According  to  Herodotus  ii.,  92,  Diodorus  i.,  80,  Pliny  xiii.,  10,  the 
Egyptians  eat  the  lower  part  of  the  stem  of  the  papyrus,  at  any  rate  the 
pith  of  it;  by  preference  when  it  had  been  dried  in  the  oven.  Herodotus 
also  tells  us  that  "  they  pound  the  seeds  of  the  lotus,  which  resembles  a 
poppy,  and  make  bread  of  it."  As  we  see  from  the  monuments  that 
enormous  quantities  of  lotus  plants  grew  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  the 
statement  of  Diodorus  that  a  child,  till  it  was  grown  up,  cost  its  parents 
no  more  than  twenty  drachmae — about  fifteen  shillings — is  quite  credit- 
able. It  is  extraordinary  that  in  spite  of  the  great  utility  of  these  plants, 
particularly  of  the  papyrus,  neither  of  them  now  occurs  in  Egypt, 


1J4  UARDA. 

of  the  triumph  of  good  over  evil  and  of  purity  over  the  im- 
pure—in the  form  of  a  child.  Bless  you,  my  little  friend  ; 
be  good,  and  always  give  away  what  you  have  to  make 
others  happy.  It  will  not  make  your  house  rich— but  it 
will  your  heart !  "  .  . 

Scherau  clung  to  the  priest,  and  involuntarily  raised  his 
little  hand  to  stroke  Pentaur's  cheek.  An  unknown  ten- 
derness had  filled  his  little  heart,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  must 
throw  his  arms  round  the  poet's  neck  and  cry  upon  his 

But  Pentaur  set  him  down  upon  the  ground,  and  he 
trotted  down  into  the  valley.  There  he  paused.  The  sun 
was  high  in  the  heavens,  and  he  must  return  to  the  witch  s 
cave  and  his  board,  but  he  would  so  much  like  to  go  a  little 
further— only  as  far  as  to  the  king's  tomb,  which  was  quite 

IieClose  by  the  door  of  this  tomb  was  a  thatch  of  palm- 
branches,  and  under  this  the  sculptor  Batau,  a  very  aged 
man,  was  accustomed  to  rest.  The  old  man  was  deaf, 
but  he  passed  for  the  best  artist  of  his  time,  and  with 
justice  ;  he  had  designed  the  beautiful  pictures  and  hiero- 
glyphic inscriptions  in  Seti's  splendid  buildings  at  Adydos 
and  Thebes,  as  well  as  in  the  tomb  of  that  prince,  and  he 
was  now  working  at  the  decoration  of  the  walls  in  the 
grave  of  Rameses. 

Scherau  had  often  crept  close  up  to  him,  and  thought- 
fully watched  him  at  work,  and  then  tried  himself  to  make 
animal  and  human  figures  out  of  a  bit  of  clay. 
One  day  the  old  man  had  observed  him. 
The  sculptor  had  silently  taken  his  humble  attempt  out 
of  his  hand,  and  had  returned  it  to  him  with  a  smile  ot 
encouragement. 

From  that  time  a  peculiar  tie  had  sprung  up  between 
the  two.  Scherau  would  venture  to  sit  down  by  the  sculp- 
tor, and  try  to  imitate  his  finished  images.  Not  a  word 
was  exchanged  between  them,  but  often  the  deaf  old  man 
would  destroy  the  boy's  works,  often  on  the  contrary  im- 
prove them  with  a  touch  of  his  own  hand,  and  not  seldom 
nod  at  him  to  encourage  him.  ,,.        .,  , 

When  he  stayed  away  the  old  man  missed  his  pupil,  ana 
Scherau's  happiest  hours  were  those  which  he  passed  at 
his  side. 


UARDA. 


*55 


He  was  not  forbidden  to  take  some  clay  home  with  him. 
There,  when  the  old  woman's  back  was  turned,  he 
molded  a  variety  of  images,  which  he  destroyed  as  soon 
as  they  were  finished. 

While  he  lay  on  his  rack  his  hands  were  left  free,  and 
he  tried  to  reproduce  the  various  forms  which  lived  in  his 
imagination  ;  he  forgot  the  present  in  his  artistic  attempts, 
and  his  bitter  lot  acquired  a  flavor  of  the  sweetest  enjoy- 
ment. 

But  to-day  it  was  too  late ;  he  must  give  up  his  visit  to 
the  tomb  of  Rameses. 

Once  more  he  looked  back  at  the  hut,  and  then  hurried 
into  the  dark  cave. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Pentaur  also  soon  quitted  the  hut  of  the  paraschites. 

Lost  in  meditation,  he  went  along  the  hill-path  which 
led  to  the  temple  *  which  Ameni  had  put  under  his  direc- 
tion. 

He  foresaw  many  disturbed  and  anxious  hours  in  the 
immediate  future. 

The  sanctuary  of  which  he  was  the  superior,  had  been 
dedicated  to  her  own  memory,  and  to  the  Goddess  Hathor, 
by  Hatasu,f  a  great  queen  of  the  dethroned  dynasty: 

The  priests  who  served  it  were  endowed  with  peculiar 
chartered  privileges,  which  hitherto  had  been  strictly  re- 
spected. Their  dignity  was  hereditary,  going  down  from 
father  to  son,  and  they  had  the  right  of  choosing  their 
director  from  among  themselves. 

Now  their  chief  priest  Rui  was  ill  and  dying,  and  Ameni, 

*  This  temple  is  well  proportioned,  and  remains  in  good  preservation. 
Copies  of  the  interesting  pictures  discovered  in  it  are  to  he  found  in  the 
"Fleet  of  an  Egyptian  queen"  by  Dumichen.  Other  details  may  be 
found  in  Lepsius'  Monuments  of  Egypt. 

t  The  daughter  of  Thotmes  I,  wife  of  her  brother  Thotmes  II,  and 
predecessor  of  her  second  brother  Thotmes  III.  An  energetic  woman 
who  executed  great  works,  and  caused  herself  to  be  represented  with  the 
helmet  aud  beard-case  of  a  man. 


j^g  UART>A. 

under  whose  jurisdiction  they  came,  had,  without  consuJt- 
.  ins;  them,  sent  the  young  poet  Pentaur  to  fill  his  place. 
They  had  received  the  intruder  most  unwillingly  and 
combined  strongly  against  him  when  it  became  evident 
that  he  was  disposed  to  establish  a  severe  rule  and  to 
abolish  many  abuses  which  had  become  established 


customs.  . .  . 

They  had  devolved  the  greeting  of  the  rising  sun  on  the 
temple-servants  ;  Pentaur  required  that  the  younger  one, 
at  least,  should  take  part  in  chanting  the  morning  hymn, 
and  himself  led  the  choir.  They  had  trafficked  with  the 
offerings  laid  on  the  altar  of  the  goddess  ;  the  new  master 
repressed  this  abuse,  as  well  as  the  extortions  of  which 
they  were  guilty  toward  women  in  sorrow,  who  visited 
the  temple  of  Hathor  in  greater  number  than  any  other 

SaThe  pTet— brought  up  in  the  temple  of  Seti  to  self-con- 
trol order,  exactitude,  and  decent  customs,  deeply  pene- 
trated with  a  sense  of  the  dignity  of  his  position,  and  ac- 
customed to  struggle  with  special  zeal  against  indolence 
of  body  and  spirit-was  disgusted  with  the  slothful  life 
and  fraudulent  dealings  of  his  subordinates  :  and  the  deeper 
insight  which  yesterday's  experience  had  given  him  into 
the  poverty  and  sorrow  of  human  existence,  made  him  re- 
solve with  increased  warmth  that  he  would  awake  them 

to  a  new  life.  ,    ,  , 

The  conviction  that  the  lazy  herd  whom  he  commanded 
was  called  upon  to  pour  consolation  into  a  thousand  sor- 
rowing hearts,  to  dry  innumerable  tears,  and  to  clothe  the 
dry  sticks  of  despair  with  the  fresh  verdure  of  hope,  urged 
him  to  strong  measures.  ,    .  , 

Yesterday  he  had  seen  how,  with  calm  indifference,  they 
had  listened  to  the  deserted  wife,  the  betrayed  maiden  to 
the  woman,  who  implored  the  withheld  blessing  of  chil- 
dren, to  the  anxious  mother,  the  forlorn  widow— and  sought 
only  to  take  advantage  of  sorrow,  to  extort  gifts  for  the 
eoddess,  or  better  still  for  their  own  pockets  or  belly. 
Now  he  was  nearing  the  scene  of  his  new  labors 
There  stood  the  reverend  building,  rising  stately  from 
the  valley  on  four  terraces  handsomely  and  singu  arly 
divided,  and  resting  on  the  western  side  against  the  high 
amphitheater  of  yellow  cliffs. 


UARDA. 


*57 


On  the  closely  joined  foundation  stones  gigantic  hawks 
were  carved  in  relief,  each  with  the  emblem  of  life,  and 
symbolized  Horus,  the  son  of  the  goddess,  who  brings  all 
that  fades  to  fresh  bloom,  and  all  that  dies  to  resurrec- 
tion. 

On  each  terrace  stood  a  hall  open  to  the  east,  and  sup- 
ported on  two  and  twenty  archaic*  pillars.  On  their  inner 
walls  elegant  pictures,  and  inscriptions  in  the  finest  sculp- 
tured work  recorded,  for  the  benefit  of  posterity,  the  great 
things  that  Hatasu  had  done  with  the  help  of  the  gods 
of  Thebes. 

There  were  the  ships  which  she  had  to  send  to  Punt,f 
to  enrich  Egypt  with  the  treasures  of  the  east ;  there  the 
wonders  brought  to  Thebes  from  Arabia  might  be  seen  • 
there  were  delineated  the  houses  J  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
land  of  frankincense,  and  all  the  fishes  of  the  Red  Sea,  in 
distinct  and  characteristic  outline.  § 

On  the  third  and  fourth  terraces  were  the  small  adjoin- 
ing rooms  of  Hatasu  and  her  brothers  Thotmes  II.  and  III., 
which  were  built  against  the  rock,  and  entered  by  granite 
doorways.  In  them  purifications  were  accomplished,  the 
images  of  the  goddess  worshiped,  and  the  more  distin- 
guished worshipers  admitted  to  confess.  The  sacred  cows 
of  the  goddess  were  kept  in  a  side-building. 

As  Pentaur  approached  the  great  gate  of  the  terrace- 
temple,  he  became  the  witness  of  a  scene  which  filled  him 
with  resentment. 

A  woman  implored  to  be  admitted  into  the  forecourt,  to 
pray  at  the  altar  of  the  goddess  for  her  husband,  who  was 
very  ill,  but  the  sleek  gate-keeper  drove  her  back  with 
rough  words. 

' *  It  is  written  up,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the  inscription 

*  Polygonal  pillars,  which  were  used  first  in  tomb-building  under  the 
twelfth  dynasty,  and  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Hyksos  under  the  kings  of 
the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth,  in  public  buildings  ;  but  under  the  sub- 
sequent races  of  kings  they  ceased  to  be  employed. 

t  Arabia ;  apparently  also  the  coast  of  east  Africa,  south  of  Egypt  an 
far  as  Somali.  The  latest  of  the  lists  published  by  Mariette,  of  the  south- 
ern nations  conquered  by  Thotmes  III,  mentions  it.  This  list  was  found 
on  the  pylon  of  the  temple  of  Karnak. 

X  They  stood  on  piles  and  were  entered  by  ladders. 

§  The  species  are  in  many  cases  distinguishable — Dr.  Donitz  ha* 
nariied  several. 


UARDA. 


over  the  gate,  "  only  the  purified  may  set  their  foot  across 
this  threshold,  and  you  cannot  be  purified  but  by  the 
smoke  of  incense." 

*  <  Then  swing  the  censer  for  me, "  said  the  woman,  ' 1  and 
take  this  silver  ring — it  is  all  I  have. " 

"A  silver  ring  !  n  cried  the  porter,  indignantly.  "Shall 
the  goddess  be  impoverished  for  your  sake  !  The  grains 
of  Anta,*  that  would  be  used  in  purifying  you,  would  cost 
ten  times  as  much." 

"But  I  have  no  more,"  replied  the  woman,  "my  hus- 
band, for  whom  I  come  to  pray,  is  ill  ;  he  cannot  work, 
and  my  children  " 

"You  fatten  them  up  and  deprive  the  goddess  of  her 
due,"  cried  the  gate-keeper.  "Three  rings  down,  or  I 
shut  the  gate." 

1 '  Be  merciful, "  said  the  woman,  weeping.  ' '  What  will 
become  of  us  if  Hathor  does  not  help  my  husband  ? " 

"Will  our  goddess  fetch  the  doctor  ?  "  asked  the  porter. 
<t  She  has  something  to  do  beside  curing  sick  starvelings. 
Beside,  that  is  not  her  office.  Go  to  Imhotep,f  or  to 
Chunsu,  the  counsellor,  J  or  to  the  great  Techuti  herself, 
who  helps  the  sick.  There  is  no  quack-medicine  to  be  got 
here. " 

"  I  only  want  comfort  in  my  trouble,"  said  the  woman. 

"Comfort!"  laughed  the  gate-keeper,  measuring  the 
comely  young  woman  with  his  eye.  "That  you  may 
have  cheaper." 

The  woman  turned  pale,  and  drew  back  from  the  hand 
the  man  stretched  out  toward  her. 

At  this  moment,  Pentaur,  full  of  wrath,  stepped  between 
them. 

*  An  incense  frequently  mentioned. 

t  The  son  of  Ptah,  named  Asklepois  by  the  Greeks.  Memphis  was 
the  chief  city  of  his  worship  ;  he  is  usually  represented  with  a  cap  on,  and 
a  book  on  his  knee.  There  are  fine  statues  of  him  at  Berlin,  the  Louvre, 
and  other  museums.  A  bronze  of  great  beauty  is  in  the  possession  of 
Pastor  Haken  at  Riga.  - 

tThe  third  of  the  Triad  of  Thebes;  he  is  identical  with  Toth,  and 
frequently  addressed  as  of  good  counsel  for  the  healing  of  the  sick.  His 
great  Temple  in  Thebes  (Karnak)  is  well  preserved.  In  the  time  of  the 
twentieth  dynasty  B.  C.  1273  to  1095,  his  statue  (according  to  a  passage 
interpreted  by  E.  de  Ronge)  was  sent  into  Asia  to  cure  the  sister  ot 
the  wife  of  Rameses  XII.,  an  Asiatic  princess,  who  was  possessed  by 
devils. 


UARDA.  tQ 

He  raised  his  hand  in  blessing  over  the  woman,  who 
bent  low  before  him,  and  said,  "  Whoever  calls  fervently 
on  the  Divinity  is  near  to  him.    You  are  pure.  Enter." 

As  soon  as  she  had  disappeared  within  the  temple,  the 
priest  turned  to  the  gate-keeper  and  exclaimed  : 

"Is  this  how  you  serve  the  goddess  ;  is  this  how  you 
take  advantage  of  a  heart-wrung  woman  ?  Give  me  the 
keys  of  this  gate.  Your  office  is  taken  from  you,  and 
early  to-morrow  you  go  out  in  the  fields,  and  keep  the 
geese  of  Hathor. " 

The  porter  threw  himself  on  his  knees  with  loud  out- 
cries ;  but  Pentaur  turned  his  back  on  him,  entered  the 
sanctuary,  and  mounted  the  steps  which  led  to  his  dwell- 
ing on  the  third  terrace. 

A  few  priests  whom  he  passed  turned  their  backs  upon 
him,  others  looked  down  at  their  dinners,  eating  noisily, 
and  making  as  if  they  did  not  see  him.  They  had  com- 
bined strongly,  and  were  determined  to  expel  the  incon- 
venient intruder  at  any  price. 

Having  reached  his  room,  which  had  been  splendidly 
decorated  for  his  predecessor,  Pentaur  laid  aside  his  new 
insignia,  comparing  sorrowfully  the  past  and  the  present. 

To  what  an  exchange  Ameni  had  condemned  him  ! 

Here,  wherever  he  looked,  he  met  with  sulkiness  and 
aversion  ;  while,  when  he  walked  through  the  courts  of  the 
House  of  Seti,  a  hundred  boys  would  hurry  toward  him, 
and  cling  affectionately  to  his  robe.  Honored  there  by- 
great  and  small,  his  every  word  had  had  its  value  ;  and 
when  each  day  he  gave  utterance  to  his  thoughts,  what  he 
bestowed  came  back  to  him  refined  by  earnest  discourse 
with  his  associates  and  superiors,  and  he  gained  new  treas- 
ures for  his  inner  life. 

"What  is  rare,"  thought  he,  "  is  full  of  charm  ;  and  yet 
how  hard  it  is  to  do  without  what  is  habitual  !  " 

The  occurrences  of  the  last  few  days  passed  before  his 
mental  sight.  Bent-Anats  image  appeared  before  him, 
and  took  a  more  and  more  distinct  and  captivating  form! 
His  heart  began  to  beat  wildly,  the  blood  rushed  faster 
through  his  veins  ;  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  re- 
called every  glance,  every  word  from  her  lips. 

"I  follow  thee  willingly,"  she  had  said  to  him  before 
the  hut  of  the  paraschites.  Now  he  asked  himself  whether 
he  were  worthy  of  such  a  follower. 


l6o  uarda. 

He  had  indeed  broken  through  the  old  bonds,  but  not 
to  disgrace  the  house  that  was  dear  to  him,  only  to  let  new 
lfcht  into  its  dim  chambers. 

"To  do  what  we  have  earnestly  felt  to  be  right,  said 
he  to  himself,  "may  seem  worthy  of  punishment  to  men, 
but  cannot  before  God."  .  , 

He  sighed  and  walked  out  into  the  terrace  in  a  mood  ot 
lofty  excitement,  and  fully  resolved  to  do  here  nothing 
but  what  was  right,  to  lay  the  foundation  of  all  that  was 

^^We  men, "  thought  he,  <  '  prepare  sorrow  when  we  come 
into  the  world,  and  lamentation  when  we  leave  it ;  and 
so  it  is  our  duty  in  the  intermediate  time  to  fight  with  suf- 
fering, and  to  sow  the  seeds  of  joy.  There  are  many  tears 
here  to  be  wiped  away.    To  work  then  !  " 

The  poet  found  none  of  his  subordinates  on  the  upper 
terrace     They  had  all  met  in  the  forecourt  of  the  temple 
and  were  listening  to  the  gate-keeper's  tale,  and  seemed 
to  sympathize  with  his  angry  complaint— against  whom 
Pentaur  well  knew. 

With  a  firm  step  he  went  toward  them  and  said  : 

-I  have  expelled  this  man  from  among  us,  for  he  is  a 
disgrace  to  us.    To-morrow  he  quits  the  temple. 

The  gate-keeper  looked  inquiringly  at  the  priests. 

Not  one  moved.  .  . 

-Go  back  into  your  house,"  said  Pentaur,  going  closer 

co  him. 
The  porter  obeyed. 

Pentaur  locked  the  door  of  the  little  room,  gave  the  key 
to  one  of  the  temple  servants,  and  said:  -Perform  your 
duty  watch  the  man,  and  if  he  escapes  you  will  go  alter 
the  geese  to-morrow  too.  See,  my  friends,  how  many 
worshipers  kneel  there  before  our  altars— go  and  fulfill 
your  office.  I  will  wait  in  the  confessional  to  receive 
complaints,  and  to  administer  comfort."  > 

The  priests  separated  and  went  to  the  votaries  1  entaur 
once  more  mounted  the  steps,  and  sat  down  in  the  narrow 
confessional  which  was  closed  by  a  curtain  ;  on  its  Wail 
the  picture  of  Hatasu  was  to  be  seen,  drawing  the  milk  ot 
eternal  life  from  the  udders  of  the  cow  Hathor.* 

He  had  hardly  taken  his  place  when  a  temple  servant  an- 
*  A  remarkably  life-like  figure  in  relief,  in  perfect  preservation. 


UARDA. 


161 


nounced  the  arrival  of  a  veiled  lady.  The  bearers  of  her 
litter  were  thickly  veiled,  and  she  had  requested  to  be  con- 
ducted to  the  confession  chamber.  The  servant  handed 
Pentaur  a  token  by  which  the  high-priest  of  the  °reat 
temple  ofAraon,  on  the  other  bank  of  the  Nile,  granted 
her  the  privilege  of  entering  the  inner  rooms  of  the  temple 
with  the  Rechiu,*  and  to  communicate  with  all  priests 
even  with  the  highest  of  the  initiated. 

The  poet  withdrew  behind  a  curtain,  and  awaited  the 
stranger  with  a  disquiet  that  seemed  to  him  all  the  more 
singular  that  he  had  frequently  found  himself  in  a  similar 
position.  Even  the  noblest  dignitaries  had  often  been 
transferred  to  him  by  Ameni  when  they  had  come  to  the 
temple  to  have  their  visions  interpreted. 

A  tall  female  figure  entered  the  still,  sultry  stone  room 
sank  on  her  knees,  and  put  up  a  long  and  absorbed  prayer 
before  the  figure  of  Hathor.  Pentaur  also,  seen  by  no 
one,  lifted  his  hands,  and  fervently  addressed  himself  to 
the  omnipresent  spirit  with  a  prayer  for  strength  and 
purity.  ° 

Just  as  his  arms  fell  the  lady  raised  her  head.  It  was  as 
though  the  prayers  of  the  two  souls  had  united  to  mount 
upward  together. 

The  veiled  lady  rose  and  dropped  her  veil 

It  was  Bent-Anat. 

In  the  agitation  of  her  soul  she  had  sought  the  Goddess 
Hathor,  who  guides  the  beating  heart  of  woman  and  spins 
the  threads  which  bind  man  and  wife. 

"High  mistress  of  heaven !  many-named  and  beautiful '  " 
she  began  to  pray  aloud,  "golden  Hathor  !  who  knowest 
grief  and  ecstasy— the  present  and  the  future-draw  near 
to  thy  child,  and  guide  the  spirit  of  thy  servant,  that  he 
may  advise  me  well.  I  am  the  daughter  of  a  father  who  is 
great  and  noble  and  truthful  as  one  of  the  gods  He  ad- 
vises me— he  will  never  compel  me— to  yield  to  a  man 
whom  I  can  never  love.    Nay,  another  has  met  me,  humble 

in  birth  but  noble  in  spirit  and  in  gifts  " 

Thus  far,  Pentaur,  incapable  of  speech,  had  overheard 
the  princess. 

Ought  he  to  remain  concealed  and  hear  all  her  secret  or 
wSS&TtaES^""1  t0  the  chambers  and 'th. 

II 


j62  uarda. 

should  he  step  forth  and  show  himself  to  her  ?    His  pride 

called  loudly  to  him  :  "Now  she  will  speak  your  name  : 
you  are  the  chosen  one  of  the  fairest  and  noblest/'  _  But 
another  voice  to  which  he  had  accustomed  himself  to  listen 
in  severe  self-discipline  made  itself  heard,  and  said— "  Let 
her  say  nothing  in  ignorance,  that  she  need  be  ashamed  of 
if  she  knew."  . 

He  blushed  for  her— he  opened  the  curtain  and  went 
forward  into  the  presence  of  Bent-Anat. 

The  princess  drew  back  startled. 

"Art  thou  Pentaur,"  she  asked,  "or  one  of  the  Immor- 
tals?" _  „ 

"I  am  Pentaur,"  he  answered,  firmly,  "  a  man  with  all 
the  weakness  of  his  race,  but  with  a  desire  for  what  is 
good.  Linger  here  and  pour  out  thy  soul  to  our  goddess  ; 
my  whole  life  shall  be  a  prayer  for  thee." 

The  poet  looked  full  at  her;  then  he  turned  quickly, 
as  if  to  avoid  a  danger,  toward  the  door  of  the  con- 
fessional. 

Bent-Anat  called  his  name,  and  he  stayed  his  steps. 

"The  daughter  of  Rameses,"  she  said,  "need  offer  no 
justification  of  her  appearance  here,  but  the  maiden  Bent- 
Anat,"  and  she  colored  as  she  spoke,  "expected  to  find, 
not  thee,  but  the  old  priest  Rui,  and  she  desired  his  advice. 
Now  leave  me  to  pray." 

Bent-Anat  sank  on  her  knees,  and  Pentaur  went  out 
into  the  open  air. 

When  the  princess  too  had  left  the  confessional,  loud 
voices  were  heard  on  the  south  side  of  the  terrace  on  which 
they  stood. 

She  hastened  toward  the  parapet. 

"  Hail  to  Pentaur  !  "  was  shouted  up  from  below. 

The  poet  rushed  forward,  and  placed  himself  near  the 
princess.  Both  looked  down  into  the  valley,  and  could  be 
seen  by  all.  ..TT  .« 

"  Hail,  hail  !  Pentaur,"  was  called  doubly  loud.  Hail 
to  our  teacher !  come  back  to  the  House  of  Seti.  Down 
with  the  persecutors  of  Pentaur— down  with  our  op- 
pressors ! 99  ,      ,  , 

At  the  head  of  the  youths,  who,  so  soon  as  they  had 
found  out  whither  the  poet  had  been  exiled,  had  escaped 
to  tell  him  that  they  were  faithful  to  him,  stood  the  Prince 


UARDA. 


Ramen,  who  nodded  triumphantly  to  his  sister,  andAnana 
stepped  forward I  to  inform  the  honored  teacher,  in  a  solemn 
and  well-studied  speech,  that,  in  the  event  of  Amen, 
refusing  to  recal  him,  they  had  decided  requesting  tK 
fathers  to  place  them  at  another  school  S 

the  young  sage  spoke  well,  and  Bent-Anat  followed  his 
words,  not  without  approbation;  but  Pentaurs  face^rew 
darker,  and  before  his  favorite  disciple  had  ended  hfe 
speech  he  interrupted  him  sternly 

His  voice  was  at  first  reproachful,  and  then  complaining 
nof'anger.^  *  ^  ^  S°TT°W  IanS  in  his  tones,  and 
"In  truth,"  he  concluded,  "every  word  that  I  havp 
spoken  to  you  I  could  but  find  it  in  me  to  regret  if  it  has 
contributed  to  encourage  you  to  this  mad  act  You  were 
born  m  palaces  ;  learn  to  obey,  that  later  you  may  know 
how  to  command.  Back  to  your  school  !  7  You  hesitate^ 
1  Wl1  CTSf  °Ut  against  y°u  with  watchman  and 
by  sucyh°a  motf  ^  T  f°  ™a»d  ^selves  small  honor 
belong  to  '?  aff6Ctl0n-    Go  back  to  the  school  you 

The  school-boys  dared  make  no  answer,  but  surprised 
and  disenchanted  turned  to  go  home  surprised 

wtnt"Anat  ^  d°Wn  her  eyes  as  she  met  those  of  her 

SSlvhtf^  Sh°ulders'  and  then  shl  looked 
halt  shyly,  half  respectfully,  at  the  poet ;  but  soon  a^ain 

her  eyes  turned  to  the  plain  below,  for  thick    u  £ 

whirled  across  it,  the  sound  of  hoofs  and  the  rattle  of 

wheels  became  audible,  and  at  the  same  moment  the 

chariot  of  Septah  the  chief  haruspex,  and  a  vehicle  with 

t  terrS"  °f      ^  °f  Seti'  stoPPed  ^ 

tjJhl^/7  °ld  m,an  Spran?  quickly  to  the  ground  called 
he  host  of  escaped  pupils  to  him  in  a  stern  voice  ordered 

?d  toS?tt0  I1""  th6m  baCk  t0  the  School>  and  hurr  ed 
rl  f  uempIe  ?ates  like  a  vigorous  youth.  The  nriests 
received  him  with  the  deepest  reverence,  and  at  once  Lid 
their  complaints  before  him  d 

the^ter^  ftff  ISO**?*  ^  dM  not  let  them  discuss 
uie  matter,  then,  though  with  some  difficulty  he  auicklv 

mounted  the  steps,  down  which  Bent-Anat  Jame  toward 


104  UARDA. 


The  princess  felt  that  she  would  divert  all  the  blame 
and  misunderstanding  to  herself,  if  Septah  recognized 
her  •  her  hand  involuntarily  reached  for  her  veil,  but  she 
drew  it  back  quickly,  looked  with  quiet  dignity  into  the 
old  mans  eyes,  which  flashed  with  anger,  and  proudly 
passed  by  him.  The  haruspex  bowed,  but  without  giving 
her  his  blessing,  and  when  he  met  Pentaur  on  the  second 
terrace,  ordered  that  the  temple  should  be  cleared  of 
worshipers. 

This  was  done  in  a  few  minutes,  and  the  priests  were 
witnesses  of  the  most  painful  scene  which  had  occurred  for 
years  in  their  quiet  sanctuary. 

The  head  of  the  haruspices  of  the  House  of  Seti  was  the 
most  determined  adversary  of  the  poet  who  had  so  early 
been  initiated  into  the  mysteries,  and  whose  keen  intel- 
lect often  shook  those  very  ramparts  which  the  zealous 
old  man  had,  from  conviction,  labored  to  strengthen  from 
his  youth  up.  The  vexatious  occurrences,  of  which  he 
had  been  a  witness  at  the  House  of  Seti,  and  here  also  but 
a  few  minutes  since,  he  regarded  as  the  consequence  of 
the  unbridled  license  of  an  ill-regulated  imagination,  and 
in  stern  language  he  called  Pentaur  to  account  for  the 
"revolt"  of  the  school-boys. 

"And  besides  our  boys/'  he  exclaimed,  "  you  have  led 
the  daughter  of  Rameses  astray.  She  was  not  yet  purged 
of  her  uncleanness,  and  yet  you  tempt  her  to  an  assigna- 
tion, not  even  in  the  strangers  quarters— but  m  the  holy 
house  of  this  pure  Divinity. "  .  , 

Undeserved  praise  is  dangerous  to  the  weak  ;  unjust 
blame  may  turn  even  the  strong  from  the  right  way. 

Pentaur  indignantly  repelled  the  accusations  of  the  old 
man  called  them  unworthy  of  his  age,  his  position,  and 
his  name,  and  for  fear  that  his  anger  might  carry  him  too 
far  turned  his  back  upon  him  ;  but  the  haruspex  ordered 
him  to  remain,  and  in  his  presence  questioned  the  priests, 
who  unanimously  accused  the  poet  of  having  admitted  to 
the  temple  another  unpurified  woman  besides  Bent-Anat, 
and  of  having  expelled  the  gate-keeper  and  thrown  him 
into  prison  for  opposing  the  crime. 

The  haruspex  ordered  that  the  "ill-used  man  should  be 
set  at  liberty. 

Pentaur  resisted  this  command,  asserted  his  right  to 


govern  in  this  temple,  and  with  atrem 
Septah  to  quit  the  place. 

The  haruspex  showed  him  Ameni's  ring,  uy  w««v,±*,  - 
ing  his  residence  in  Thebes,  he  made  him  his  plenipoten- 
tiary, degraded  Pentaur  from  his  dignity,  but  ordered  him 
not'to  quit  the  sanctuary  till  further  notice,  and  then  finally 
departed  from  the  temple  of  Hatasu. 

Pentaur  had  yielded  in  silence  to  the  signet  of  his  chief, 
and  returned  to  the  confessional  in  which  he  had  met 
Bent-Anat.  He  felt  his  soul  shaken  to  its  very  foundations, 
his  thoughts  were  confused,  his  feelings  struggling  with 
each  other;  he  shivered,  and  when  he  heard  the# laugh- 
ter of  the  priests  and  the  gate-keeper,  who  were  triumph- 
ing in  their  easy  victory,  he  started  and  shuddered  like  a 
man  who  in  passing  a  mirror  should  see  a  brand  of  disgrace 
on  his  brow. 

But  by  degrees  he  recovered  himself,  his  spirit  grew 
clearer,  and  when  he  left  the  little  room  to  look  toward  the 
east — where,  on  the  further  shore,  rose  the  palace  where 
Bent-Anat  must  be— a  deep  contempt  for  his  enemies 
filled  his  soul,  and  a  proud  feeling  of  renewed  manly 
energy.  He  did  not  conceal  from  himself  that  he  had 
enemies  ;  that  a  time  of  struggle  was  beginning  for  him  ; 
but  he  looked  forward  to  it  like  a  young  hero  to  the  morn- 
ing of  his  first  battle. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  afternoon  shadows  were  already  growing  long, 
when  a  splendid  chariot  drew  up  to  the  gates  of  the 
terrace-temple.  Paaker,  the  chief  pioneer,  stood  up  in  it, 
driving  his  handsome  and  fiery  Syrian  horses.  Behind 
him  stood  an  Ethiopian  slave,  and  his  big  dog  followed  the 
swift  team  with  his  tongue  out. 

As  he  approached  the  temple  he  heard  himself  called, 
and  checked  the  pace  of  his  horses.  A  tiny  man  hurried 
up  to  him,  and,  as  soon  as  he  had  recognized  in  him  the 
dwarf  Nemu,  he  cried,  angrily  : 

"Is  it  for  you,  you  rascal,  that  I  stopped  my  drive? 
What  do  you  want  ? " 


he  little  man,  bowing- humbly,  "  that, 
v^s  in  the  City  of  the  Dead  is  finished,  thou 
in  carry  me  back  to  Thebes. " 
"You  are  Menas  dwarf? "  asked  the  pioneer. 
"By  no  means,"  replied  Nemu.  "I  belong  to  his 
neglected  wife,  the  lady  Nefert.  I  can  only  cover  the 
road  very  slowly  with  my  little  legs,  while  the  hoofs  of 
your  horses  devour  the  way— as  a  crocodile  does  his 
prey." 

"Get  up!"  said  Paaker.  "Did  you  come  here  on 
foot?" 

' '  No,  my  lord, "  replied  Nemu,  "  on  an  ass  ;  but  a  demon 
entered  into  the  beast,  and  has  struck  it  with  sickness.  I 
had  to  leave  it  on  the  road.  The  beasts  of  Anubis  will 
have  a  better  supper  than  we  to-night." 

' '  Things  are  not  done  handsomely  then  at  your  mistress 
house  ? "  asked  Paaker. 

<<  We  still  have  bread,"  replied  Nemu,  "  and  the  Nile  is 
full  of  water.  Much  meat  is  not  necessary  for  women  and 
dwarfs,  but  our  last  cattle  take  a  form  which  is  too  hard 
for  human  teeth," 

The  pioneer  did  not  understand  the  joke,  and  looked 
inquiringly  at  the  dwarf, 

"The  form  of  money,"  said  the  little  man,  "and  that 
cannot  be  chewed  ;  soon  that  will  be  gone  too,  and  then 
the  point  will  be  to  find  a  recipe  for  making  nutritious 
cakes  out  of  earth,  water  and  palm-leaves.  It  makes  very 
little  difference  to  me,  a  dwarf  does  not  need  much— but 
the  poor  tender  lady  I  " 

Paaker  touched  his  horses  with  such  a  violent  stroke  of 
his  whip  that  they  reared  high,  and  it  took  all  his  strength 
to  control  their  spirit. 

"The  horses'  jaws  will  be  broken,"  muttered  the  slave 
behind.     "What  a  shame  with  such  fine  beasts  !  " 

"  Have  you  to  pay  for  them  ?  "  growled  Paaker.  Then 
he  turned  again  to  the  dwarf,  and  asked  : 

"Why  does  Mena  let  the  ladies  want  ?  " 

"  He  no  longer  cares  for  his  wife,"  replied  the  dwarf, 
casting  his  eyes  down  sadly.  "At  the  last  division  of  the 
spoil  he  passed  by  the  gold  and  silver,  and  took  a  foreign 
woman  into  his  tent.  Evil  demons  have  blinded  him,  for 
where  is  there  a  woman  fairer  than  Nefert  ?  " 


UARDA. 


167 


"You  love  your  mistress  ? " 
"  As  my  very  eyes." 

During  this  conversation  they  had  arrived  at  the  terrace- 
temple.  Paaker  threw  the  reins  to  the  slave,  ordered 
him  to  wait  with  Nemu,  and  turned  to  the  gate-keeper 
to  explain  to  him,  with  the  help  of  a  handful  of  gold,  his 
desire  of  being  conducted  to  Pentaur,  the  chief  of  the 
temple. 

The  gate-keeper,  swinging  a  censer  before  him  with  a 
hasty  action,  admitted  him  into  the  sanctuary. 

"  You  will  find  him  on  the  third  terrace,"  he  said,  "  but 
he  is  no  longer  our  superior. " 

"They  said  so  in  the  temple  of  Seti,  whence  I  have  just 
come,"  replied  Paaker. 

The  porter  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  sneer,  and 
said:  ''The  palm-tree  that  is  quickly  set  up  falls  down 
more  quickly  still."  Then  he  desired  a  servant  to  conduct 
the  stranger  to  Pentaur. 

The  poet  recognized  the  Mohar  at  once,  asked  his  will, 
and  learned  that  he  was  come  to  have  a  wonderful  vision 
interpreted  by  him. 

Paaker  explained  before  relating  his  dream,  that  he  did 
not  ask  this  service  for  nothing  ;  and  when  the  priests 
countenance  darkened,  he  added  : 

"I  will  send  a  fine  beast  for  sacrifice  to  the  goddess  if 
the  interpretation  is  favorable." 

"And  in  the  opposite  case  ?  "  asked  Pentaur,  who,  in  the 
House  of  Seti,  never  would  have  anything  whatever  to  do 
with  the  payments  of  the  worshipers  or  the  offerings  of  the 
devout. 

"I  will  offer  a  sheep,"  replied  Paaker,  who  did  not  per- 
ceive the  subtle  irony  that  lurked  in  Pentaur's  words,  and 
who  was  accustomed  to  pay  for  the  gifts  of  the  Divinity  in 
proportion  to  their  value  to  himself. 

Pentaur  thought  of  the  verdict  which  Gagabu,  only 
two  evenings  since,  had  passed  on  the  Mohar,  and  it 
occurred  to  him  that  he  would  test  how  far  the  man's 
superstition  would  lead  him.  So  he  asked  while  he  sup- 
pressed a  smile: 

"And  if  I  can  foretell  nothing  bad,  but  also  nothing 
actually  good  " 


i68 


UAkt)A. 


"  An  antelope,  and  four  geese,"  answered  Paaker, 
promptly. 

"But  if  I  were  altogether  disinclined  to  put  myself  at 
your  service  ?  "  asked  Pentaur.  "  If  I  thought  it  unworthy 
of  a  priest  to  let  the  gods  be  paid  in  proportion  to  their 
favors  toward  a  particular  person,  like  corrupt  officials  ;  if 
I  now  showed  you — you — and  I  have  known  you  from  a 
school-boy,  that  there  are  things  that  cannot  be  bought 
with  inherited  wealth  ?  " 

The  pioneer  drew  back,  astonished  and  angry,  but  Pen- 
taur continued  calmly  : 

"I  stand  here  as  the  minister  of  the  Divinity;  and 
nevertheless,  I  see  by  your  countenance  that  you  were 
on  the  point  of  lowering  yourself  by  showing  to  me  your 
violent  and  extortionate  spirit. 

"  The  immortals  send  us  dreams,  not  to  give  us  a  fore- 
taste of  joy  or  caution  us  against  danger,  but  to  remind 
us  so  to  prepare  our  souls  that  we  may  submit  quietly  to 
suffer  evil,  and  with  heartfelt  gratitude  accept  the  good, 
and  so  gain  from  each  profit  for  the  inner  life.  I  will  not 
interpret  your  dream !  Come  without  gifts,  but  with  a 
humble  heart,  and  with  longing  for  inward  purification, 
and  I  will  pray  to  the  gods  that  they  may  enlighten  me, 
and  give  you  such  interpretation  of  even  evil  dreams  that 
they  may  be  fruitful  in  blessing. 

"  Leave  me  and  quit  the  temple  !  " 

Paaker  ground  his  teeth  with  rage  ;  but  he  controlled 
himself,  and  only  said  as  he  slowly  withdrew  : 

"  If  your  office  had  not  already  been  taken  from  you, 
the  insolence  with  which  you  have  dismissed  me  might 
have  cost  you  your  place.  We  shall  meet  again,  and  then 
you  shall  learn  that  inherited  wealth  in  the  right  hand  is 
worth  more  than  you  will  like/' 

"Another  enemy  !"  thought  the  poet,  when  he  found 
himself  alone  and  stood  erect  in  the  glad  consciousness  of 
having  done  right. 

During  Paaker  s  interview  with  the  poet,  the  dwarf  Nemu 
had  chattered  to  the  porter,  and  had  learned  from  him  all 
that  had  previously  occurred. 

Paaker  mounted  his  chariot  pale  with  rage,  and  whipped 
on  his  horses  before  the  dwarf  had  clambered  up  the  step  ; 


UARDA. 


169 


but  the  slave  seized  the  little  man,  and  set  him  carefully 
on  his  feet  behind  his  master. 

«  The  villain,  the  scoundrel !  he  shall  repent  it— Pentaur 
is  he  called  !  the  hound  !  "  muttered  the  pioneer  to  him- 
self. 

The  dwarf  lost  none  of  his  words,  and  when  he  caught 
the  name  of  Pentaur  he  called  to  the  pioneer,  and 
said  : 

"  They  have  appointed  a  scoundrel  to  be  the  superior  ot 
this  temple  ;  his  name  is  Pentaur.  He  was  expelled  from 
the  temple  of  Seti  for  his  immorality,  and  now  he  has 
stirred  up  the  younger  scholars  to  rebellion,  and  invited 
unclean  women  into  the  temple.  My  lips  hardly  dare  re- 
peat it,  but  the  gate-keeper  swore  it  was  true— that  the 
chief  haruspex  from  the  House  of  Seti  found  him  in  con- 
ference with  Bent-Anat,  the  kings  daughter,  and  at  once 
deprived  him  of  his  office." 

'  <  With  Bent-Anat  ?  "  replied  the  pioneer,  and  muttered, 
before  the  dwarf  could  find  time  to  answer,  "Indeed,  with 
Bent-Anat !"  and  he  recalled  the  day  before  yesterday^  when 
the  princess  had  remained  so  long  with  the  priest  in  the 
hovel  of  the  paraschites,  while  he  had  talked  to  Nefert  and 
visited  the  old  witch. 

"I  should  not  care  to  be  in  the  priests  skin/'  observed 
Nemu,  "  for  though  Rameses  is  far  away,  the  Regent  Ani 
is  near  enough.  He  is  a  gentleman  who  seldom  pounces, 
but  who  will  not  let  the  doves  be  seized  out  of  his  own 
nest." 

Paaker  looked  inquiringly  at  Nemu. 

"I  know,"  said  the  dwarf,  "  Ani  has  asked  Rameses' 
consent  to  marry  his  daughter. 

"He  has  already  asked  it,"  continued  the  dwarf  as 
Paaker  smiled  incredulously,  "  and  the  king  is  not  disin- 
clined to  give  it.  He  likes  making  marriages— as  thou 
must  know  pretty  well." 

"I  ?"  said  Paaker,  surprised. 

'<  He  forced  Katuti  to  give  her  daughter  as  wife  to  the 
charioteer.  That  I  know  from  herself.  She  can  prove  it 
to  thee." 

Paaker  shook  his  head  in  denial,  but  the  dwarf  continued 
eagerly,  "Yes,  yes  !  Katuti  would  have  had  thee  for  her 
son-in-law,  and  it  was  the  king,  not  she,  who  broke  off  the 


UARDA. 


betrothal.  Thou  must  at  the  same  time  have  been  in- 
scribed in  the  black  books  of  the  '  high  gate,  '  for  Rameses 
used  many  hard  names  for  thee.  One  of  us  is  like  a  mouse 
behind  the  curtain,  which  knows  a  good  deal." 

Paaker  suddenly  brought  his  horses  to  a  stand-still,  threw 
the  reins  to  the  slave,  sprang  from  the  chariot,  called  the 
dwarf  to  his  side,  and  said  : 

"  We  will  walk  from  here  to  the  river,  and  you  shall 
tell  me  all  you  know  ;  but  if  an  untrue  word  passes  your 
lips  I  will  have  you  eaten  by  my  dogs." 

"I  know  thou  canst  keep  thy  word,"  gasped  the  little 
man.  "  But  go  a  little  slower  if  thou  wilt,  for  I  am  quite 
out  of  breath.  Let  Katuti  herself  tell  thee  how  it  all  came 
about.  Rameses  compelled  her  to  give  her  daughter  to  the 
charioteer.  I  do  not  know  what  he  said  of  thee,  but  it 
was  not  complimentary.  My  poor  mistress  !  she  let  her- 
self be  caught  by  the  dandy,  the  ladies'  man— and  now  she 
may  weep  and  wail.  When  I  pass  the  great  gates  of  thy 
house  with  Katuti,  she  often  sighs  and  complains  bitterly. 
And  with  good  reason,  for  it  will  soon  be  all  over  with  our 
noble  estate,  and  we  must  seek  a  republic  faraway  among 
the  Amu  *  in  the  low  lands  ;  for  the  nobles  will  soon  avoid 
us  as  outcasts.  Thou  mayst  be  glad  that  thou  hast  not 
linked  thy  fate  to  ours  ;  but  I  have  a  faithful  heart,  and 
will  share  my  mistress'  trouble." 

"  You  speak  riddles,"  said  Paaker,  "  what  have  they  to 
fear  ?  " 

The  dwarf  now  related  how  Nefert's  brother  had  gambled 
away  the  mummy  of  his  father,  how  enormous  was  the 
sum  he  had  lost,  and  that  degradation  must  overtake 
Katuti,  and  her  daughter  with  her. 

"  Who  can  save  them  ?  "  he  whimpered.  "  Her  shame- 
less husband  squanders  his  inheritance  and  his  prize-money. 
Katuti  is  poor,  and  the  little  words  £Give  me  !  '  scare  away 
friends  as  the  cry  of  a  hawk  scares  the  chickens.  My  poor 
mistress  !  " 

"  It  is  a  large  sum,"  muttered  Paaker  to  himself. 

' 1  It  is  enormous  !  "  sighed  the  dwarf,  "  and  where  is  it 

*  A  Semitic  tribe,  who  at  the  time  of  our  story  peopled  the  eastern 
delta.  See  "/Egypten  und  dte  Biichea  Moses,"  Ebers>  and  the  second 
edition  of  "  Histoire  de  l'Egypte  "  by  Brugsch.  The  name  Bi-amites 
comes  from  the  old  name  Amu. 


UARDA. 


to  be  found  in  these  hard  times  ?  It  would  have  been  dif- 
ferent with  us,  if— ah  if   And  it  would  be  a  form  of 

madness  which  I  do  not  believe  in,  that  Nefert  should  still 
care  for  her  braggart  husband.  She  thinks  as  much  of 
thee  as  of  him." 

Paaker  looked  at  the  dwarf  half  incredulous  and  half 
threatening. 

"Ay— of  thee,"  repeated  Nemu.  "  Since  our  excursion 
to  the  Necropolis— the  day  before  yesterday  it  was— she 
speaks  only  of  thee,  praising  thy  ability,  and  thy  strong 
manly  spirit.  It  is  as  if  some  charm  obliged  her  to  think 
of  thee." 

The  pioneer  began  to  walk  so  fast  that  his  small  com- 
panion once  more  had  to  ask  him  to  moderate  his  steps. 

They  gained  the  shore  in  silence,  where  Paaker s  boat 
was  waiting,  which  also  conveyed  his  chariot.  He  lay 
down  in  the  little  cabin,  called  the  dwarf  to  him,  and 
said  : 

"lam  Katuti's  nearest  relative  ;  we  are  now  reconciled  ; 
why  does  she  not  turn  to  me  in  her  difficulty  ?  " 

"  Because  she  is  proud,  and  thy  blood  flows  in  her  veins. 
Sooner  would  she  die  with  her  child— she  said  so— than 
ask  thee,  against  whom  she  sinned,  for  an  alms." 

"  She  did  think  of  me  then  ?  " 

"At  once;  nor  did  she  doubt  thy  generosity.  She 
esteems  thee  highly— I  repeat  it ;  and  if  an  arrow  from  a 
Cheta's  bow  or  a  visitation  of  the  gods  attained  Mena,  she 
would  joyfully  place  her  child  in  thine  arms,  and  Nefert, 
believe  me,  has  not  forgotten  her  play-fellow.  The  day 
before  yesterday,  when  she  came  home  from  the  Necropolis, 
and  before  the  letter  had  come  from  the  camp,  she  was  full 
of  thee— nay,  called  to  thee  in  her  dreams  ;  I  know  it  from 
Kandake,  her  black  maid/' 

The  pioneer  looked  down  and  said  : 

* <  How  extraordinary!  And  the  same  night  I  had  a 
vision  in  which  your  mistress  appeared  to  me  ;  the  insolent 
priest  in  the  temple  of  Hathor  should  have  interpreted  it 
to  me." 

' '  And  he  refused  ?  The  fool  !  But  other  folks  under- 
stand dreams,  and  I  am  not  the  worst  of  them.  Ask  thy 
servant.  Ninety-nine  times  out  of  a  hundred  my  inter- 
pretations come  true.    How  was  the  vision  ?  " 


UARDA. 


"  I  stood  by  the  Nile,"  said  Paaker,  casting  down  his 
eyes  and  drawing  lines  with  his  whip  through  the  wool  of 
the  cabin  rug.  ''The  water  was  still,  and  I  saw  Nefert 
standing  on  the  further  bank  and  beckoning  to  me.  I 
called  to  her,  and  she  stepped  on  the  water,  which  bore 
her  up  as  if  it  were  this  carpet.  She  went  over  the  water 
dry-foot  as  if  it  were  the  stony  wilderness.  A  wonderful 
sight  !  She  came  nearer  to  me,  and  nearer,  and  already  I 
had  tried  to  take  her  hand,  when  she  ducked  under  like  a 
swan.  I  went  into  the  water  to  seize,  her,  and  when  she 
came  up  again  I  clasped  her  in  my  arms  ;  but  then  the 
strangest  thing  happened — she  flowed  away,  she  dissolved 
like  the  snow  on  the  Syrian  hills,  when  you  take  it  in  your 
hand,  and  yet  it  was  not  the  same,  for  her  hair  turned  to 
water-lilies,  and  her  eyes  to  blue  fishes  that  swam  away 
merrily,  and  her  lips  to  twigs  of  coral  that  sank  at  once, 
and  from  her  body  grew  a  crocodile,  with  a  head  like 
Mena,  that  laughed  and  gnashed  its  teeth  at  me.  Then 
I  was  seized  with  blind  fury  ;  I  threw  myself  upon  him 
with  a  drawn  sword,  he  fastened  his  teeth  in  my  flesh,  I 
pierced  his  throat  with  my  weapon  ;  the  Nile  was  dark 
with  our  streaming  blood,  and  so  we  fought  and  fought — 
it  lasted  an  eternity — till  I  awoke." 

Paaker  drew  a  long  breath  as  he  ceased  speaking  ;  as  if 
his  wild  dream  tormented  him  again. 

The  dwarf  had  listened  with  eager  attention,  but  several 
minutes  passed  before  he  spoke, 

"  A  strange  dream,"  he  said,  "  but  the  interpretation  as 
to  the  future  is  not  hard  to  find.  Nefert  is  striving  to 
reach  thee,  she  longs  to  be  thine  ;  but  if  thou  dost  fancy 
that  she  is  already  in  thy  grasp  she  will  elude  thee;  thy 
hopes  will  melt  like  ice,  slip  away  like  sand,  if  thou  dost 
not  know  how  to  put  the  crocodile  out  of  the  way." 

'At  this  moment  the  boat  struck  the  landing-place. 
The  pioneer  started  up,  and  cried  :  "We  have  reached  the 
end  ! " 

"We  have  reached  the  end,"  echoed  the  little  man 
with  meaning.  "There  is  only  a  narrow  bridge  to  step 
over." 

When  they  both  stood  on  the  shore,  the  dwarf  said  : 
"  I  have  to  thank  thee  for  thy  hospitality,  and  when  I 
can  serve  thee  command  me." 


UAk£>A. 


"Come  here,"  cried  the  pioneer,  and  drew  Nemu  away 
with  him  under  the  shade  of  a  sycamore  veiled  in  the  half 
light  of  the  departing  sun. 

"What  do  you.  mean  by  a  bridge  which  we  must  step 
over?  I  do  not  understand  the  flowers  of  speech,  and 
desire  plain  language. " 

The  dwarf  reflected  for  a  moment,  and  then  asked  : 

"Shall  I  say  nakedly  and  openly  what  I  mean,  and  will 
you  not  be  angry  ?  " 

"Speak!"  c  ,  A 

"  Mena  is  the  crocodile.  Put  him  out  of  the  world,  and 
you  will  have  passed  the  bridge  ;  then  Nefert  will  be  thine 
—if  thou  wilt  listen  to  me." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"  Put  the  charioteer  out  of  the  world/' 

Paaker's  gesture  seemed  to  convey  that  that  was  a  thing 
that  had  long  been  decided  on,  and  he  turned  his  face,  for 
a  good  omen,  so  that  the  rising  moon  should  be  on  his 
right  hand. 

The  dwarf  went  on. 

"Secure  Nefert,  so  that  she  may  not  vanish  like  her 
image  in  the  dream,  before  you  reach  the  goal  ;  that  is  to 
say,1  ransom  the  honor  of  your  future  mother  and  wife, 
for  how  could  you  take  an  outcast  into  your  house  ?  " 

Paaker  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  ground. 

"  May  I  inform  my  mistress  that  thou  wilt  save  her? 
asked  Nemu.     ' '  I  may  ?    Then  all  will  be  well,  for  he  who 
will  devote  a  fortune  to  love  will  not  hesitate  to  devote  a 
reed  lance  with  a  brass  point  to  it  to  his  love  and  his 
hatred  together. " 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  sun  had  set,  and  darkness  covered  the  City  of  the 
Dead  ;  but  the  moon  shone  above  the  valley  of  the  kings' 
tombs,  and  the  projecting  masses  of  the  rocky  walls  of  the 
chasm  threw  sharply-defined  shadows.  A  weird  silence 
lay  upon  the  desert,  where  yet  far  more  life  was  stirring 
than  in  the  noonday  hour,  for  now  bats  darted  like  black 


UARDA. 


silken  threads  through  the  night  air,  owls  hovered  aloft 
on  wide-spread  wings,  small  troops  of  jackals  slipped  by, 
one  following  the  other  up  the  mountain  slopes.  From 
time  to  time  their  hideous  yells,  or  the  whining  laugh  of 
the  hyena,  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night. 

Nor  was  human  life  yet  at  rest  in  the  valley  of  the 
tombs.  A  faint  light  glimmered  in  the  cave  of  the  sor- 
ceress Hekt,  and  in  front  of  the  paraschites'  hut  a  fire  was 
burning,  which  the  grandmother  of  the  sick  Uarda  now 
and  then  fed  with  pieces  of  dry  manure.  Two  men  were 
seated  in  front  of  the  hut,  and  gazed  in  silence  on  the  thin 
flame,  whose  impure  light  was  almost  quenched  by  the 
clearer  glow  of  the  moon  ;  while  the  third,  Uarda's  father, 
disemboweled  a  large  ram,  whose  head  he  had  already  cut 
off. 

"How  the  jackals  howl !  "  said  the  old  paraschites,  draw- 
ing as  he  spoke  the  torn  brown  cotton  cloth,  which  he  had 
put  on  as  a  protection  against  the  night  air  and  the  dew 
closer  round  his  bare  shoulders. 

"They  scent  the  fresh  meat/' answered  the  physician 
Nebsecht.  "Throw  them  the  entrails,  when  you  have 
done;  the  legs  and  back  you  can  roast.  Be  careful  how 
you  cut  out  the  heart — the  heart,  soldier.  There  it  is  ! 
What  a  great  beast." 

Nebsecht  took  the  ram's  heart  in  his  hand,  and  gazed  at 
it  with  the  deepest  attention,  while  the  old  paraschites 
watched  him  anxiously.    At  length  : 

"I  promised,"  he  said,  "to  do  for  you  what  you  wish, 
if  you  restore  the  little  one  to  health  ;  but  you  ask  for  what 
is  imposssible." 

"  Impossible  ?  "  said  the  physician,  "  why,  impossible? 
You  open  the  corpses,  you  go  in  and  out  of  the  house  of 
the  embalmer.  Get  possession  of  one  of  the  Kanopis,* 
lay  this  heart  in  it,  and  take  out  in  its  stead  the  heart  of  a 

*  Vases  of  clay,  limestone,  or  alabaster,  which  were  used  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  the  intestines  of  the  embalmed  Egyptians,  and  represented 
the  four  genii  of  death,  Amset,  Hapi,  Tuamutef,  and  Khebsennuf.  In- 
stead of  the  cover,  the  head  of  the  genius  to  which  it  was  dedicated,  was 
placed  on  each  kanopus.  Amset  (under  the  protection  of  Isis)  has  a 
human  head,  Hapi  (protected  by  Nephthys)  an  ape's  head,  Tuamutef 
(protected  by  Neith)  a  jackal's  head,  and  Khebsennuf  (protected  by 
Selk)  a  sparrow-hawk's  head.  In  one  of  the  Christian  Coptic  Manu- 
scripts the  four  archangels  are  invoked  in  the  place  of  these  genii. 


UARDA. 


i7S 


human  being.  No  one— no  one  will  notice  it.  Nor  need 
you  do  it  to-morrow,  or  the  day  after  to-morrow  even. 
Your  son  can  buy  a  ram  to  kill  every  day  with  my  money 
till  the  right  moment  comes.  Your  grandaughter  will 
soon  grow  strong  on  a  good  meat  diet.    Take  courage  !  " 

<<I  am  not  afraid  of  the  danger,"  said  the  old  man,  "but 
how  can  I  venture  to  steal  from  a  dead  man  his  life  in  the 
other  world  ?  And  then— in  shame  and  misery  have  I 
lived,  and  for  many  a  year— no  man  has  numbered  them 
for  me— have-  I  obeyed  the  commandments,  that  I  may  be 
found  righteous  in  that  world  to  come,  and  in  the  fields 
of  Aalu,  and  in  the  Sun-bark  find  compensation  for  all  that 
I  have  suffered  here.  You  are  good  and  friendly.  Why, 
for  the  sake  of  a  whim,  should  you  sacrifice  the  future 
bliss  of  a  man,  who  in  all  his  long  life  has  never  known 
happiness,  and  who  has  never  done  you  any  harm  ?  " 

"What  I  want  with  the  heart,"  replied  the  physician, 
«  you  cannot  understand,  but  in  procuring  it  for  me,  you 
will  be  furthering  a  great  and  useful  purpose.  I  have  no 
whims,  for  I  am  no  idler.  And  as  to  what  concerns  your 
salvation,  have  no  anxiety.  I  am  a  priest,  and  take  your 
deed  and  its  consequences  upon  myself ;  upon  myself,  do 
you  understand  ?  I  tell  you,  as  a  priest,  that  what  I  de- 
mand of  you  is  right,  and  if  the  judge  of  the  dead  shall 
inquire,  '  Why  didst  thou  take  the  heart  of  a  human  being 
out  of'  the  Kanopus  ? '  then  reply— reply  to  him  thus, 
'  Because  Nebsecht,  the  priest,  commanded  me  and  prom- 
ised himself  to  answer  for  the  deed.'  " 

The  old  man  gazed  thoughtfully  on  the  ground,  and  the 
physician  continued  still  more  urgently  : 

"  If  you  fulfill  my  wish,  then— then  I  swear  to  you  that, 
when  you  die,  I  will  take  care  that  your  mummy  is  pro- 
vided with  all  the  amulets,  and  I  myself  will  write  you  a 
book  of  the  Entrance  into  Day,*  and  have  it  wound  within 
your  mummy-cloth,  as  is  done  with  the  great,  f  That  will 
give  you  power  over  all  demons,  and  you  will  be  admitted 
to  the  hall  of  the  twofold  justice,  winch  punishes  and  re- 
wards, and  your  award  will  be  bliss. " 

*  The  first  section  of  the  so-called  Book  of  the  Dead  is  thus  en- 

^The  Books  of  the  Dead  are  often  found  among  the  cloths  (by  the 
leg  or  under  the  arm),  or  else  in  the  coffin  under,  or  near,  the  mummy. 


r76  HARD  A. 


,  "Bllt  the  theft  of  a  heart  will  make  the  weight  of  my 
sins  heavy,  when  my  own  heart  is  weighed,"  sighed  the 
old  man.  fe 

Nebsecht  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  ■  "I 
will  give  you  a  written  paper,  in  which  I  will  certify  that 
it  was  I  who  commanded  the  theft.  You  will  sew  it  up 
ma  little  bag,  carry  it  on  your  breast,  and  have  it  laid 
with  you  in  the  grave.  Then  when  Techuti,  the  agent  of 
the  soul,  receives  your  justification  before  Osiris  and  the 
judges  of  the  dead,*  give  him  the  writing.  He  will  read 
it  aloud,  and  you  will  be  accounted  just." 

"I  am  not  learned  in  writing, "  muttered  the  paraschites, 
with  a  slight  mistrust  that  made  itself  felt  in  his  voice. 

7  But  1  swear  to  you  by  the  nine  great  gods,  that  I  will 
write  nothing  on  the  paper  but  what  I  have  promised  you 
I  will  confess  that  I,  the  priest  Nebsecht,  commanded  you 
to  take  the  heart,  and  that  your  guilt  is  mine." 

"Let  me  have  the  writing  then,"  murmured  the  old 
n. 


man 


The  physician  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead 
and  gave  the  paraschites  his  hand.  "To-morrow  you 
shall  have  it,"  he  said,  "  and  I  will  not  leave  your  grand- 
daughter till  she  is  well  again. " 

The  soldier  engaged  in  cutting  up  the  ram,  had  heard 
nothing  of  this  conversation.  Now  he  ran  a  wooden  spit 
through  the  legs,  and  held  them  over  the  fire  to  roast 
them.  The  jackals  howled  louder  as  the  smell  of  the 
melting  fat  filled  the  air,  and  the  old  man,  as  he  looked 
on,  forgot  the  terrible  task  he  had  undertaken  For  a 
year  past,  no  meat  had  been  tasted  in  his  house. 

The  physician  Nebsecht,  himself  eating  nothing-  but  a 
piece  of  bread,  looked  on  at  the  feasters.  They  tore  the 
meat  from  the  bones,  and  the  soldier,  especially,  devoured 

*The  vignettes  of  Chapter  125,  of  the  Book  of  the  Dead,  represent 
S^V^fV^  th/  E^tians'  Under  a  canopy  Osiris  sTts  en 
throned  as  Chief  Judge,  forty-two  assessors  assist  him.  In  the  hall  stand 
the  scales;  the  dog-headed  ape,  the  animal  sacred  to  Toth  guides  the 
balance  In  one  scale  lies  the  heart  of  the  dead  man,  in  the  other  the 
image  of  the  goddess  of  Truth,  who  introduces  the  soul  into  the  hall  of 
justice  Toth  writes  the  record.  The  soul  affirms  that  it  has  not  com- 
mitted forty-two  deadly  sins  and  if  it  obtains  credit,  it  is  named  «  maa 
cneru,  ,.  the  truth-speaker,"  and  is  therewith  declared  blessed.  It 
now  receives  its  heart  back,  and  grows  into  a  new  and  divine  life. 


UARDA. 


177 


the  costly  and  unwonted  meal  like  some  ravenous  animal. 
He  could  be  heard  chewing  like  a  horse  in  the  manger, 
and  a  feeling  of  disgust  filled  the  physician's  soul. 

"  Sensual  beings,"  he  murmured  to  himself,  "animals 
with  consciousness  !  And  yet  human  beings.  Strange  ! 
They  languish  bound  in  the  fetters  of  the  world  of  sense, 
and  yet  how  much  more  ardently  they  desire  that  which 
transcends  sense  than  we — how  much  more  real  it  is  to 
them  than  to  us  !  " 

"  Will  you  have  some  meat  ?  "  cried  the  soldier,  who  had 
remarked  that  Nebsecht's  lips  moved,  and  tearing  a  piece 
of  meat  from  the  bone  of  the  joint  he  was  devouring,  he 
held  it  out  to  the  physician.  Nebsecht  shrank  back  ;  the 
greedy  look,  the  glistening  teeth,  the  dark,  rough  features 
of  the  man  terrified  him.  And  he  thought  of  the  white  and 
fragile  form  of  the  sick  girl  lying  within  on  the  mat,  and 
a  question  escaped  his  lips. 

"Is  the  maiden,  is  Uarda,  your  own  child  ?  "  he 
said. 

The  soldier  struck  himself  on  the  breast.  "So  sure  as 
King  Rameses  is  the  son  of  Seti,"  he  answered. 

The  men  had  finished  their  meal,  and  the  flat  cakes  of 
bread  which  the  wife  of  the  paraschites  gave  them,  and  on 
which  they  had  wiped  their  hands  from  the  fat,  were  con- 
sumed, when  the  soldier,  in  whose  slow  brain  the  phy- 
sician's question  still  lingered,  said,  sighing  deeply  : 

u  Her  mother  was  a  stranger ;  she  laid  the  white  dove 
in  the  raven's  nest." 

"  Of  what  country  was  your  wife  a  native  ?  "  asked  the 
physician. 

"That  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  soldier. 
"  Did  you  never  inquire  about  the  family  of  your  own 
wife  i" 

6 '  Certainly  I  did  ;  but  how  could  she  have  answered 
me  ?    But  it  is  a  long  and  strange  story." 

"Relate  it  to  me,"  said  Nebsecht,  "the  night  is  long, 
and  I  like  listening  better  than  talking.  But  first  I  will 
see  after  our  patient." 

When  the  physician  had  satisfied  himself  that  Uarda  was 
sleeping  quietly  and  breathing  regularly,  he  seated  him- 
self again  by  the  paraschites  and  his  son,  and  the  soldier 
began  : 
12 


i78 


UARDA. 


"It  all  happened  long  ago.    King  Seti  still  lived,  but 

Rameses  already  reigned  in  his  stead,  when  I  came  home 
from  the  North.  They  had  sent  me  to  the  workmen,  who 
were  building  the  fortifications  in  Zoan,  the  town  of 
Rameses.*  I  was  set  over  six  men,  Amus,f  of  the  He- 
brew race,  over  whom  Rameses  kept  such  a  tight  hand,  J 
Among  the  men  there  were  sons  of  rich  cattle-holders,  for 
in  levying  the  people  it  was  never  :  '  What  have  you  ? 9  but 
'  Of  what  race  are  you  ? '  The  fortifications  and  the  canal 
which  was  to  join  the  Nile  and  the  Red  Sea  had  to  be  com- 
pleted, and  the  king,  to  whom  be  long  life,  health,  and 
prosperity,  took  the  youth  of  Egypt  with  him  to  the  wars, 
and  left  the  works  to  the  Amus,  who  are  connected  by  race 
with  his  enemies  in  the  east.  One  lives  well  in  Goshen, 
for  it  is  a  fine  country,  with  more  than  enough  of  corn 
and  grass  and  vegetables  and  fish  and  fowls,  and  I  always 
had  of  the  best,  for  among  my  six  people  were  two  mothers' 
darlings  whose  parents  sent  me  many  a  piece  of  silver. 
Everyone  loves  his  children,  but  the  Hebrews  love  them 
more  tenderly  than  other  people.  We  had  daily  our  ap- 
pointed tale  of  bricks  to  deliver,  and  when  the  sun  burnt 
hot,  I  used  to  help  the  lads,  and  I  did  more  in  an  hour 
than  they  did  in  three,  for  I  am  strong  and  was  still 
stronger  then  than  I  am  now. 

"Then  came  the  time  when  I  was  relieved.  I  was 
ordered  to  return  to  Thebes,  to  the  prisoners  of  war  who 
were  building  the  great  temple  of  Amon  over  yonder,  and 
as  I  had  brought  home  some  money,  and  it  would  take  a 
good  while  to  finish  the  great  dwelling  of  the  king  of  the 
gods,  I  thought  of  taking  a  wife  ;  but  no  Egyptian.  Of 
daughters  of  paraschites  there  were  plenty  ;  but  I  wanted 
to  get  away  out  of  my  father's  accursed  caste,  and  the  other 
girls  here,  as  I  knew,  were  afraid  of  our  uncleanness.  In 
the  low  country  I  had  done  better,  and  many  an  Amu  and 
Schasu  woman  had  gladly  come  to  my  tent.  From  the 
beginning  I  had  set  my  mind  on  an  Asiatic. 

''Many  a  time  maidens  taken  prisoners  in  war  were 

*The  Rameses  of  the  Bible.    Exodus  i,  n. 

t  Semites.  . 

t  For  an  account  of  the  traces  of  the  Jews  in  Egypt,  see  Cnabas, 
Melanges,  and  Ebers,  ^Egypten  und  die  Bucher  Moses,  also  Durch  Gosett 
zum  Sinai. 


UARDA. 


brought  to  be  sold,  but  either  they  did  not  please  me,  or 
they  were  too  dear.  Meantime  my  money  melted  away, 
for  we  enjoyed  life  in  the  time  of  rest  which  followed  the 
working  hours.  There  were  dancers  too  in  plenty,  in  the 
foreign  quarter. 

"Well,  it  was  just  at  the  time  of  the  holy  feast  of  Amon- 
Chem,  that  a  new  transport  of  prisoners  of  war  arrived, 
and  among  them  many  women,  who  were  sold  publicly 
to  the  highest  bidder.  The  young  and  beautiful  ones 
were  paid  for  high,  but  even  the  older  ones  were  too  dear 
for  me. 

"  Quite  at  the  last  a  blind  woman  was  led  forward,  and 
a  withered-looking  woman  who  was  dumb,  as  the  auction- 
eer, who  generally  praised  up  the  merits  of  the  prisoners, 
informed  the  buyers.  The  blind  woman  had  strong  hands, 
and  was  bought  by  a  tavern-keeper,  for  whom  she  turns 
the  hand-mill  to  this  day  ;  the  dumb  woman  held  a  child 
in  her  arms,  and  no  one  could  tell  whether  she  was  young 
or  old.  She  looked  as  though  she  already  lay  in  her  coffin, 
and  the  little  one  as  though  he  would  go  under  the  grass 
before  her.  And  her  hair  was  red,  burning  red,  the  very 
color  of  Typhon.  Her  white  pale  face  looked  neither  bad 
nor  good,  only  weary,  weary  to  death.  On  her  withered 
white  arms  blue  veins  ran  like  dark  cords,  her  hands  hung 
feebly  down,  and  in  them  hung  the  child;  If  a  wind 
were  to  rise,  I  thought  to  myself,  it  would  blow  her  away 
and  the  little  one  with  her. 

"The  auctioneer  asked  for  a  bid.  All  were  silent  for 
the  dumb  shadow  was  of  no  use  for  work  ;  she  was  half- 
dead,  and  a  burial  costs  money. 

"So  passed  several  minutes.  Then  the  auctioneer 
stepped  up  to  her,  and  gave  her  a  blow  with  his  whip,  that 
she  might  rouse  herself  up,  and  appear  less  miserable  to  the 
buyers.  She  shivered  like  a  person  in  a  fever,  pressed  the 
child  closer  to  her,  and  looked  round  at  every  one  as 
though  seeking  for  help — and  me  full  in  the  face.  What 
happened  now  was  a  real  wonder,  for  her  eyes  were  bigger 
than  any  that  I  ever  saw,  and  a  demon  dwelt  in  them  that 
had  power  over  me  and  ruled  me  to  the  end,  and  that  day 
it  bewitched  me  for  the  first  time. 

"  It  was  not  hot  and  I  had  drunk  nothing,  and  yet  I 
acted  against  my  own  will  and  better  judgment  when,  as 


i8o 


UARDA. 


her  eyes  fell  upon  me,  I  bade  all  that  I  possessed  in  order 
to  buy  her.  I  might  have  had  her  cheaper  !  My  compan- 
ions laughed  at  me,  the  auctioneer  shrugged  his  shoulders 
as  he  took  my  money,  but  I  took  the  child  on  my  arm, 
helped  the  woman  up,  carried  her  in  a  boat  over  the  Nile, 
loaded  a  stone-cart  with  my  miserable  property,  and  drove 
her  like  a  block  of  lime  home  to  the  old  people. 

"  My  mother  shook  her  head,  and  my  father  looked  as 
if  he  thought  me  mad  ;  but  neither  of  them  said  a  word. 
They  made  up  a  bed  for  her,  and  on  my  spare  nights  I 
built  that  ruined  thing  hard  by— it  was  a  tidy  hut  once. 
Soon  my  mother  grew  fond  of  the  child.  It  was  quite 
small,  and  we  called  it  Pennu,*  because  it  was  so  pretty, 
like  a  little  mouse.  I  kept  away  from  the  foreign  quarter, 
and  saved  my  wages,  and  bought  a  goat,  which  lived  in 
front  of  our  door  when  I  took  the  woman  to  her  own  hut. 

"She  was  dumb,  but  not  deaf,  only  she  did  not  under- 
stand our  language  ;  but  the  demon  in  her  eyes  spoke  for 
her  and  understood  what  I  said.  She  comprehended  every- 
thing, and  could  say  everything  with  her  eyes  ;  but  best  of 
all  she  knew  how  to  thank  one.  No  high-priest  who  at  the 
great  hill  festival  praises  the  gods  in  long  hymns  for  their 
gifts  can  return  thanks  so  earnestly  with  his  lips  as  she 
with  her  dumb  eyes.  And  when  she  wished  to  pray,  then 
it  seemed  as  though  the  demon  in  her  look  was  mightier 
than  ever. 

' '  At  first  I  used  to  be  impatient  enough  when  she  leaned 
so  feebly  against  the  wall,  or  when  the  child  cried  and 
disturbed  my  sleep  ;  but  she  had  only  to  look  up,  and  the 
demon  pressed  my  heart  together  and  persuaded  me  that 
the  crying  was  really  a  song.  Pennu  cried  more  sweetly 
too  than  other  children,  and  he  had  such  soft,  white,  pretty 
little  fingers. 

"  One  day  he  had  been  crying  for  a  long  time.  At  last 
I  bent  down  over  him,  and  was  going  to  scold  him,  but 
he  seized  me  by  the  beard.  It  was  pretty  to  see  !  After- 
ward he  was  forever  wanting  to  pull  me  about,  and  his 
mother  noticed  that  that  pleased  me,  for  when  I  brought 
home  anything  good,  an  egg  or  a  flower  or  a  cake,  she 
used  to  hold  him  up  and  place  his  little  hands  on  my 
beard 

*  Pennu  is  the  name  for  the  mouse  in  old  Egyptian, 


UARDA. 


181 


"  Yes,  in  a  few  months  the  woman  had  learned  to  hold 
him  up  high  in  her  arms,  for  with  care  and  quiet  she  had 
grown  stronger.  White  she  always  remained  and  delicate, 
but  she  grew  younger  and  more  beautiful  from  day  to 
day  ;  she  could  hardly  have  numbered  twenty  years  when 
I  bought  her.  What  she  was  called  I  never  heard  ;  nor 
did  we  give  her  any  name.  She  was  'the  woman/  and 
so  we  called  her. 

"  Eight  moons  passed  by,  and  then  the  little  mouse  died. 
I  wept  as  she  did,  and  as  I  bent  over  the  corpse  and  let 
my  tears  have  free  course,  and  thought — now  he  can  never 
lift  up  his  pretty  little  finger  to  you  again  ;  then  I  felt  for 
the  first  time  the  woman's  soft  hand  on  my  cheek.  She 
stroked  my  rough  beard  as  a  child  might,  and  with  that 
looked  at  me  so  gratefully  that  I  felt  as  though  King 
Pharaoh  had  all  at  once  made  me  a  present  of  both  Upper 
and  Lower  Egypt. 

"When  the  mouse  was  buried  she  got  weaker  again,  but 
my  mother  took  good  care  of  her.  I  lived  with  her,  like  a 
father  with  his  child.  She  was  always  friendly,  but  if  I 
approached  her,  and  tried  to  show  her  any  fondness,  she 
would  look  at  me,  and  the  demon  in  her  eyes  drove  me 
back,  and  I  let  her  alone. 

"She  grew  healthier  and  stronger  and  more  and  more 
beautiful,  so  beautiful  that  I  kept  her  hidden,  and  was 
consumed  by  the  longing  to  make  her  my  wife.  A  good 
housewife  she  never  became,  to  be  sure  ;  her  hands  were 
so  tender,  and  she  did  not  even  know  how  to  milk  the 
goat.    My  mother  did  that  and  everything  else  for  her. 

"  In  the  daytime  she  stayed  in  her  hut  and  worked,  for 
she  was  very  skillful  at  woman's  work,  and  wove  lace  as 
fine  as  cobwebs,  which  my  mother  sold  that  she  might 
bring  home  perfumes  with  the  proceeds.  She  was  very 
fond  of  them,  and  of  flowers  too  ;  and  Uarda  in  there 
takes  after  her. 

"In  the  evening,  when  the  folks  from  the  other  side 
had  left  the  City  of  the  Dead,  she  would  often  walk  up 
and  down  the  valley  here,  thoughtful,  and  often  looking 
up  at  the  moon,  which  she  was  especially  fond  of. 

"  One  evening  in  the  winter-time  I  came  home.  It  was 
already  dark,  and  I  expected  to  find  her  in  front  of  the 
door.    All  at  once,  about  a  hundred  steps  behind  old 


I§2 


UAkt)A. 


Hekt's  cave,  I  heard  a  troop  of  jackals  barking  so  furiously 

that  I  said  to  myself  directly  they  had  attacked  a  human 
being,  and  I  knew  too  who  it  was,  though  no  one  had  told 
me,  and  the  woman  could  not  call  or  cry  out.  Frantic 
with  terror,  I  tore  a  firebrand  from  the  hearth  and  the 
stake  to  which  the  goat  was  fastened  out  of  the  ground, 
rushed  to  her  help,  drove  away  the  beasts,  and  carried  her 
back  senseless  to  the  hut.  My  mother  helped  me,  and  we 
called  her  back  to  life.  When  we  were  alone,  I  wept  like 
a  child  for  joy  at  her  escape,  and  she  let  me  kiss  her,  and 
then  she  became  my  wife,  three  years  after  I  had  bought 
her. 

"She  bore  me  a  little  maid,  that  she  herself  named 
Uarda  ;  for  she  showed  us  a  rose,  and  then  pointed  to  the 
child,  and  we  understood  her  without  words. 

* '  Soon  afterward  she  died. 

' 'You  are  a  priest,  but  I  tell  you  that  when  I  am  sum- 
moned before  Osiris,  if  I  am  admitted  among  the  blessed, 
I  will  ask  whether  I  shall  meet  my  wife,  and  if  the  door- 
keeper says  no,  he  may  thrust  me  back,  and  I  will  go 
down  cheerfully  to  the  damned,  if  I  find  her  again  there." 

uAnd  did  no  sign  ever  betray  her  origin?"  asked  the 
physician. 

The  soldier  had  hidden  his  face  in  his  hands  ;  he  was 
weeping  aloud,  and  did  not  hear  the  question.  But  the 
paraschites  answered  : 

"  She  was  the  child  of  some  great  personage,  for  in  her 
clothes  we  found  a  golden  jewel  with  a  precious  stone  in- 
scribed with  strange  characters.  It  is  very  costly,  and 
my  wife  is  keeping  it  for  the  little  one." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

In  the  earliest  glimmer  of  dawn  the  following  day,  the 
physician  Nebsecht,  having  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  state 
of  the  sick  girl,  left  the  paraschites'  hut  and  made  his 
way  in  the  deepest  thought  to  the  terrace-temple  of 
Hatasu,  to  find  his  friend  Pentaur  and  compose  the  writ- 
ing which  he  had  promised  to  the  old  man. 


UARDA. 


183 


As  the  sun  rose  in  radiance  he  reached  the  sanctuary. 
He  expected  to  hear  the  morning  song  of  the  priests,  but 
all  was  silent.  He  knocked,  and  the  porter,  still  half- 
asleep,  opened  the  door. 

Nebsecht  inquired  for  the  chief  of  the  temple.^ 

"  He  died  in  the  night/''  said  the  man,  yawning. 

< '  What  do  you  say  ?"  cried  the  physician,  in  sudden 
terror,  ' 6  who  is  dead  ?  " 

"Our  good  old  chief,  Rui." 

Nebsecht  breathed  again,  and  asked  for  Pentaur. 

"You  belong  to  the  House  of  Seti,"  said  the  door- 
keeper, "and  you  do  not  know  that  he  is  deposed  from 
his  office  ?  The  holy  fathers  have  refused  to  celebrate  the 
birth  of  Ra  with  him.  He  sings  for  himself  now,  alone  up 
on  the  watch-tower.    There  you  will  find  him." 

Nebsecht  strode  quickly  up  the  stairs.  Several  of  the 
priests  placed  themselves  together  in  groups  as  soon  as 
they  saw  him,  and  began  singing.  He  paid  no  heed  to 
them,  however,  but  hastened  on  to  the  uppermost  terrace, 
where  he  found  his  friend  occupied  in  writing. 

Soon  he  learned  all  that  had  happened,  and  wrathfully 
he  cried  :  "You  are  too  honest  for  those  wise  gentlemen 
in  the  House  of  Seti,  and  too  pure  and  zealous  for  the 
rabble  here.  I  knew  it,  I  knew  what  would  come  of  it  if 
they  introduced  you  to  the  mysteries.  For  us  initiated 
there  remains  only  the  choice  between  lying  and  silence/5 
"The  old  error!"  said  Pentaur,  "we  know  that  the 
Godhead  is  One,  we  name  it,  <  The  All, '  *  '  The  Veil  of  the 

*  The  sacred  text  repeatedly  calls  God  the  "  One,"  the  «  only  One." 
The  pantheistic  teaching  of  the  Mysteries  is  most  clearly  expressed  in 
those  texts  which  are  found  in  almost  all  the  Kings'  tombs  in  Thebes, 
and  on  the  walls  of  the  entrance  halls.  They  have  been  collected,  and 
contain  praises  to  Ra,  whose  seventy-five  principal  manifestations  are 
invoked.  These  texts  and  the  pantheism,  in  the  esoteric  teaching  of  the 
Egyptians,  are  excellently  and  comprehensively  treated  by  E.  Naville  in 
"  La  Litanie  du  Soleil."  The  text  of  the  Book  of  Death,  the  Hymn  to 
the  Sun  preserved  at  Bulaq,  and  treated  by  Stern  and  Grebaut,  the  in- 
scriptions on  the  sarcophagi  and  on  the  walls  of  the  Temple  of  Ptolemy, 
and  second  in  order  to  these,  Plutarch's  treatise  on  Isis  and  Osiris,  the 
Egyptian  Mysteries  of  Jamblichus,  and  the  Discourse  of  Hermes  Ins- 
megistuson  the  Human  Soul,  are  the  principal  sources  for  the  study  of 
the  secret  teaching  of  the  Egyptians.  The  views  brought  forward  and 
developed  in  these  discourses  seem  first  to  have  come  to  perfection  in 
the  kingdom.  The  Egyptian  religion  proceeded  from  a  comparatively 
rude  Sun  and  Nile  worship. 

i 


UARDA. 


All/  or  simply  1  Ra. '  But  under  the  name  Ra  we  under- 
stand something  different  than  is  known  to  the  common 
herd  ;  for  to  us,  the  Universe  is  God,  and  in  each  of  its 
parts  we  recognize  a  manifestation  of  that  highest  being 
without  whom  nothing  is,  in  the  heights  above  or  in  the 
depths  below." 

'  -  To  me  you  can  say  everything,  for  I  also  am  initiated, " 
interrupted  Nebsecht. 

"But  neither  from  the  laity  do  I  withold  it,"  cried 
Pentaur,  "  only  to  those  who  are  incapable  of  understand- 
ing the  whole,  do  I  show  the  different  parts.  Am  I  a  liar 
if  I  do  not  say,  'I  speak/  but  '  my  mouth  speaks  ;  '  if  I 
affirm,  'Your  eye  sees/  when  it  is  you  yourself  who  are 
the  seers  ?  When  the  light  of  the  only  One  manifests  itself, 
then  I  fervently  render  thanks  to  Him  in  hymns,  and  the 
most  luminous  of  his  forms  I  name  Ra.  When  I  look 
upon  yonder  green  fields,  I  call  upon  the  faithful  to  give 
thanks  to  Rennut,*  that  is,  that  active  manifestation  of 
the  One,  through  which  the  corn  attains  to  its  ripe  maturity. 
Am  I  filled  with  wronder  at  the  bounteous  gifts  with  which 
that  divine  stream  whose  origin  is  hidden,  blesses  our  land, 
then  I  adore  the  One  as  the  God  Hapi,f  the  secret  one. 
Whether  we  view  the  sun,  the  harvest,  or  the  Nile,  whether 
we  contemplate  with  admiration  the  unity  and  harmony 
of  the  visible  or  invisible  world,  still  it  is  always  with  the 
Only,  the  All-embracing  One  we  have  to  do,  to  whom  we 
also  ourselves  belong  as  those  of  his  manifestations  in 
which  he  places  his  self-consciousness.  The  imagination 
of  the  multitude  is  limited  " 

"  And  so  we  lions,  %  give  them  the  morsel  that  we  can 
devour  at  one  gulp,  finely  chopped  up,  and  diluted  with 
broth  as  if  for  the  weak  stomach  of  a  sick  man." 

4 'Not  so;  we  only  feel  it  our  duty  to  temper  and 
sweeten  the  sharp  potion,  which  for  men  even  is  almost 
too  strong,  before  we  offer  it  to  the  children,  the  babes  in 
spirit.    The  sages  of  old  veiled  indeed  the  highest  truths 

*  Goddess  of  the  harvest, 
t  The  Nile. 

%  "  The  priests,"  says  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "  allow  none  to  be  par- 
ticipators in  their  mysteries,  except  kings  or  such  among  themselves  as 
are  distinguished  for  virtue  or  wisdom.  The  same  thing  is  shown  by 
the  monuments  in  many  places. 


UARDA.  185 

in  allegorical  forms,  in  symbols,  and  finally  in  a  beautiful 
and  richly-colored  mythos,  but  they  brought  them  near  to 
the  multitude,  shrouded,  it  is  true,  but  still  discernible. 

""Discernible?"   said   the   physician,  "discernible? 
Why  then  the  veil  ?"  .   ,  _  _ 

"And  do  you  imagine  that  the  multitude  could  look  the 
naked  truth  in  the  face,*  and  not  despair  ? " 

"Can  I,  can  any  one  who  looks  straight  forward,  an^ 
strives  to  see  the  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth  ?  "  cried 
the  physician.  "  We  both  of  us  know  that  things  only 
are  to  us,  such  as  they  picture  themselves  in  the  prepared 
mirror  of  our  souls.  I  see  gray,  gray,  and  white,  white, 
and  have  accustomed  myself  in  my  yearning  after  knowl- 
edge not  to  attribute  the  smallest  part  to  my  own  idiosyn- 
crasy, if  such  indeed  there  be  existing  in  my  empty  breast. 
You  look  straight  onward  as  I  do,  but  in  you  each  idea  is 
transfigured,  for  in  your  soul  invisible  shaping  powers  are 
at  work,  which  set  the  crooked  straight,  clothe  the  com- 
monplace with  charm,  the  repulsive  with  beauty.  You 
are  a  poet,  an  artist  ;  I  only  seek  for  truth/' 

"Only?"  said  Pentaur,  "it  is  just  on  account  of  that 
effort  that  I  esteem  you  so  highly,  and,  as  you  already 
know,  I  also  desire  nothing  but  the  truth." 

"I  know,  I  know,"  said  the  physician,  nodding,  "but 
our  ways  run  side  by  side  without  ever  touching,  and  our 
final  goal  is  the  reading  of  a  riddle,  of  which  there  are 
many  solutions.  You  believe  yourself  to  have  found  the 
right  one,  and  perhaps  none  exists." 

1  "Then  let  us  content  ourselves  with  the  nearest  and  the 
most  beautiful,"  said  Pentaur. 

"The  most  beautiful?"  cried  Nebsecht  indignantly. 
"Is  that  monster,  whom  you  call  God,  beautiful— the 
giant  who  forever  regenerates  himself  that  he  may  devour 
himself  again  ?  God  is  the  All,  you  say,  who  suffices  to 
himself.  Eternal  he  is  and  shall  be,  because  all  that  goes 
forth  from  him  is  absorbed  by  him  again,  and  the  great 
niggard  bestows  no  grain  of  sand,  no  ray  of  light,  no 
breath  of  wind,  without  reclaiming  it  for  his  household, 
which  is  ruled  by  no  design,  no  reason,  no  goodness,  but 

*In  Sais  the  statue  of  Athene  (Neith)  has  the  following  inscription: 
u  1  am  the  All,  the  Past,  the  Present,  and  the  Future,  my  veil  has  no 
mortal  yet  lifted." 


tJAkt)A. 


by  a  tyrannical  necessity,  whose  slave  he  himself  is.  The 
coward  hides  behind  the  cloud  of  incomprehensibility,  and 
can  be  revealed  only  by  himself— I  would  I  could  strip 
him  of  the  veil !    Thus  I  see  the  thing  that  you  call  God !  " 

"A  ghastly  picture,"  said  Pentaur,  "  because  you  forget 
that  we  recognize  reason  to  be  the  essence  of  the  All,  the 
penetrating  and  moving  powqr  of  the  universe  which  is 
manifested  in  the  harmonious  working  together  of  its 
parts,  and  in  ourselves  also,  since  we  are  formed  out  of  its 
substance,  and  inspired  with  its  soul." 

"Is  the  warfare  of  life  in  any  way  reasonable?"  asked 
Nebsecht.  ' 'Is  this  eternal  destruction  in  order  to  build 
up  again  especially  well-designed  and  wise  ?  And  with 
this  introduction  of  reason  into  the  All,  you  provide  your- 
self with  a  self-devised  ruler,  who  terribly  resembles  the 
gracious  masters  and  mistresses  that  you  exhibit  to  the 
people." 

"  Only  apparently,"  answered  Pentaur,  "  only  because 
that  wThich  transcends  sense  is  communicable  through  the 
medium  of  the  senses  alone.  When  God  manifests  him- 
self as  the  wisdom  of  the  world,  we  call  him  '  the  Word/ 
'He  who  covers  his  limbs  with  names,'*  as  the  sacred 
text  expresses  itself,  is  the  power  which  gives  to  things 
their  distinctive  forms;  the  scarabseus  '  which  enters  life 
as  its  own  son'  f  reminds  us  of  the  ever  self-renewing 
creative  power  which  causes  you  to  call  our  merciful  and 
benevolent  God  a  monster,  but  which  you  can  deny  as 
little  as  you  can  the  happy  choice  of  the  type  ;  for,  as  you 
know,  there  are  only  male  scarabei,  and  this  animal  re- 
produces itself." 

Nebsecht  smiled.  "  If  all  the  doctrines  of  the  mys- 
teries," he  said,  "have  no  more  truth  than  this  happily 
chosen  image,  they  are  in  a  bad  way.  These  beetles  have 
for  years  been  my  friends  and  companions.  I  know  their 
family  life,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  there  are  males  and 
females  among  them  as  among  cats,  apes,  and  human- 
beings.  Your  '  good  God '  I  do  not  know,  and  what  I 
least  comprehend  in  thinking  it  over  quietly  is  the  circum- 
stance that  you  distinguish  a  good  and  evil  principle  in  the 

*  From  inscriptions  at  Abydos,  and  the  Praises  of  Ra  at  Biban  el 
Muluk. 

t  From  the  same  Texts. 


UARDA. 


187 


world.  If  the  All  is  indeed  God,  if  God,  as  the  Scriptures 
teach,  is  goodness,  and  if  besides  Him  is  nothing  at  all, 
where  is  a  place  to  be  found  for  evil  ?  " 

"  You  talk  like  a  school-boy/'  said  Pentaur  indignantly. 
"  All  that  is,  is  good  and  reasonable  in  itself,  but  the  in- 
finite One,  who  prescribes  his  own  laws  and  his  own 
paths,  grants  to  the  finite  its  continuance  through  con- 
tinual renewal,  and  in  the  changing  forms  of  the  finite 
progresses  for  evermore.  What  we  call  evil,  darkness, 
wickedness,  is  in  itself  divine,  good,  reasonable,  #  and 
clear  ;  but  it  appears  in  another  light  to  our  clouded  minds, 
because  we  perceive  the  way  only  and  not  the  goal,  the 
details  only,  and  not  the  whole.  Even  so,  superficial 
listeners  blame  the  music,  in  which  a  discord  is  heard, 
while  the  harper  has  only  evoked  from  the  strings  that  his 
hearers  may  more  deeply  feel  the  purity  of  the  succeeding 
harmony  ;  even  so,  a  fool  blames  the  painter  who  has 
colored  his  board  with  black,  and  does  not  wait  for  the 
completion  of  the  picture  which  shall  be  thrown  into 
clearer  relief  by  the  dark  background ;  even  so,  a  child 
chides  the  noble  tree,  whose  fruit  rots,  that  a  new  life  may 
spring  up  from  its  kernel.  Apparent  evil  is  but  an  ante- 
chamber to  higher  bliss,  as  every  sunset  is  but  veiled  by 
night,  and  will  soon  show  itself  again  as  the  red  dawn  of 
a  new  day." 

"How  convincing  all  that  sounds!"  answered  the 
physician,  "  all,  even  the  terrible,  wins  charm  from  your 
lips  ;  but  I  could  invert  your  proposition,  and  declare  that 
it  is  evil  that  rules  the  world,  and  sometimes  gives  us  one 
drop  of  sweet  content,  in  order  that  we  may  more  keenly 
feel  the  bitterness  of  life.  You  see  harmony  and  good- 
ness in  everything.  I  have  observed  that  passion  awakens 
life,  that  all  existence  is  a  conflict,  that  one  being  devours 
another. " 

"And  do  you  not  feel  the  beauty  of  visible  creation, 
and  does  not  the  immutable  law  in  everything  fill  you 
with  admiration  and  humility  ?  " 

' '  For  beauty, "  replied  Nebsecht,  ' 1 1  have  never  sought ; 
the  organ  is  somehow  wanting  in  me  to  understand  it  of 
myself,  though  I  willingly  allow  you  to  mediate  between 
us.  But  of  law  in  nature  I  fully  appreciate  the  worth,  for 
that  is  the  veritable  soul  of  the  universe.    You  call  the 


l8g  UARDA 

One  'Temt,'  that  is  to  say,  the  total— the  unity  which  is 
reached  by  the  addition  of  many  units  ;  and  that  pleases 
me  for  the  elements  of  the  universe  and  the  powers  which 
prescribe  the  paths  of  life  are  strictly  defined  by  measure 
and  number— but  irrespective  of  beauty  or  benevolence. 

''Such  views/'  cried  Pentaur,  troubled,  "  are  the  result 
of  your  strange  studies.  You  kill  and  destroy,  in  order, 
as  you  yourself  say,  to  come  upon  the  track  of  the  secrets 
of  life.  Look  out  upon  nature,  develop  the  faculty  which 
you  declare  to  be  wanting  in  you,  and  the  beauty  of  crea- 
tion will  teach  you  without  my  assistance  that  you  are 
praying  to  a  false  god." 

"I  do  not  pray,"  said  Nebsecht,  "for  the  law  which 
moves  the  world  is  as  little  affected  by  prayers  as  the 
current  of  the  sands  in  your  hour-glass.  Who  tells  you  that 
I  do  not  seek  to  come  upon  the  track  of  the  first  beginning 
of  things?  I  proved  to  you  just  now  that  I  know  more 
about  the  origin  of  scarabei  than  you  do.  I  have  killed 
many  an  animal,  not  only  to  study  its  organism,  but  also 
to  investigate  how  it  has  built  up  its  form.  But  precisely 
in  this  work  my  organ  for  beauty  has  become  blunt  rather 
than  keen.  I  tell  you  that  the  beginning  of  things  is  not 
more  attractive  to  contemplate  than  their  death  and 
decomposition." 

Pentaur  looked  at  the  physician  inquiringly.  . 
"  I  also  for  once,"  continued  Nebsecht,  "will  speak  in 
figures  Look  at  this  wine,  how  pure  it  is,  how  fragrant; 
and  yet  it  was  trodden  from  the  grape  by  the  brawny  feet 
of  the  vintagers.  And  those  full  ears  of  corn  !  They 
gleam  golden  yellow,  and  will  yield  us  snow-white  meal 
when  they  are  ground,  and  yet  they  grew  from  a  rotting 
seed.  Lately  you  were  praising  to  me  the  beauty  of  the 
great  Hall  of  Columns  nearly  completed  in  the  temple  of 
Ammon*  over*  yonder  in  Thebes.  How  posterity  will 
admire  it !  I  saw  that  hall  arise.  There  lay  masses  of  free- 
stone in  wild  confusion,  dust  in  heaps  that  took  away  my 
breath,  and  three  months  since  I  was  sent  over  there,  because 
above  a  hundred  workmen  engaged  in  stone-polishing  under 
the  burning  sun  had  been  beaten  to  death.    Were  I  a  poet 

*  Begun  by  Rameses  I.,  continued  by  Seti  I,  completed  by  Rameses  II. 
The  remains  of  this  immense  hall,  with  its  one  hundred  and  thirty-four 
lUumns,  have  not  their  equal  in,  the  world. 


UARDA. 


189 


like  you,  I  would  show  you  a  hundred  similar  pictures,  in 
which  you  would  not  find  much  beauty.  In  the  mean- 
time, we  have  enough  to  do  in  observing  the  existing 
order  of  things,  and  investigating  the  laws  by  which  it  is 
governed." 

"I  have  never  clearly  understood  your  efforts,  and  have 
difficulty  in  comprehending  why  you  did  not  turn  to  the 
science  of  the  haruspices,"  said  Pentaur.  < 1  Do  you  then 
believe  that  the  changing,  and— owing  to  the  conditions 
by  which  they  are  surrounded— the  dependent  life  of 
plants  and  animals  is  governed  by  law,  rule,  and  numbers 
like  the  movement  of  the  stars  ?" 

"  What  a  question  !  Is  the  strong  and  mighty  hand, 
which  compels  yonder  heavenly  bodies  to  roll  onward  m 
their  carefully  appointed  orbits,  not  delicate  enough  to 
prescribe  the  conditions  of  the  flight  of  the  bird,  and  the 
beating  of  the  human  heart  ?  " 

"There  we  are  again  with  the  heart,"  said  the  poet, 
smiling,  "  are  you  any  nearer  your  aim  ?  " 

The  physician  became  very  grave.  "Perhaps  to-mor- 
row even,"  he  said,  "I  may  have  what  I  need.  You 
have  your  palette  there  with  red  and  black  color,  and  a 
writing  reed.    May  I  use  this  sheet  of  papyrus  ?  " 

' '  Of  course  ;  but  first  tell  me  " 

"  Do  not  ask  ;  you  would  not  approve  of  my  scheme, 
and  there  would  only  be  a  fresh  dispute." 

"I  think,"  said  the  poet,  laying  his  hand  on  his  friend  s 
shoulder,  "that  we  have  no  reason  to  fear  disputes.  So 
far  they  have  been  the  cement,  the  refreshing  dew  of  our 
friendship." 

"So  long  as  they  treated  of  ideas  only,  and  not  01 
deeds." 

"You  intend  to  get  possession  of  a  human  heart!" 
cried  the  poet.  "Think  of  what  you  are  doing!  The 
heart  is  the  vessel  of  that  effluence  of  the  universal  soul 
which  lives  in  us." 

"Are  you  so  sure  of  that?  "  cried  the  physician,  with 
some  irritation,  "then  give  me  the  proof.  Have  you  ever 
examined  a  heart,  has  any  one  member  of  my  profession 
done  so  ?  The  hearts  of  crimin  als  and  prisoners  of  war  even 
are  declared  sacred  from  touch,  and  when  we  stand  helpless 
by  a  patient,  and  see  our  medicines  work  harm  as  often  as 


UARDA. 


good,  why  is  it  ?  Only  because  we  physicians  are  ex- 
pected to  work  as  blindly  as  an  astronomer,  if  he  were  re- 
quired to  look  at  the  stars  through  a  board.  At  Heliopolis 
I  entreated  the  great  Urma*  Rahotep,  the  truly  learned 
chief  of  our  craft,  and  who  held  me  in  esteem,  to  allow 
me  to  examine  the  heart  of  a  dead  Amu  ;  but  he  refused 
me,  because  the  great  Sechetf  leads  virtuous  Semites  also 
into  the  fields  of  the  blessed.  And  then  followed  all  the 
old  scruples  ;  that  to  cut  up  the  heart  of  a  beast  even  is 
sinful,  because  it  also  is  the  vehicle  of  a  soul,  perhaps  a 
condemned  and  miserable  human  soul,  which  before  it  can 
return  to  the  One,  must  undergo  purification  by  passing 
through  the  bodies  of  animals.  I  was  not  satisfied,  and 
declared  to  him  that  my  great-grandfather  Nebsecht,  before 
he  wrote  his  treatise  on  the  heart,  J  must  certainly  have 
examined  such  an  organ.  Then  he  answered  me  that  the 
divinity  had  revealed  to  him  what  he  had  written,  and 
therefore  his  work  had  been  accepted  among  the  sacred 
writings  of  Toth,  which  stood  fast  and  unassailable  as  the 
laws  of  the  world  ;  he  wished  to  give  me  peace  for  quiet 
work,  and  I  also,  he  said,  might  be  a  chosen  spirit — the 
divinity  might  perhaps  vouchsafe  revelations  to  me  too.  I 
was  young  at  that  time,  and  spent  my  nights  in  prayer,  but 
I  only  v/asted  away,  and  my  spirit  grew  darker  instead  of 
clearer.  Then  I  killed  in  secret — first  a  fowl,  then  rats,  then 
a  rabbit,  and  cut  up  their  hearts,  and  followed  the  vessels 
that  lead  out  of  them,  and  know  little  more  now  than  I  did 
at  first  ;  but  I  must  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  truth,  and  I 
must  have  a  human  heart." 

"  What  will  that  do  for  you?"  asked  Pentaur  ;  "you 
cannot  hope  to  perceive  the  invisible  and  the  infinite  with 
your  human  eyes." 

"  Do  you  know  my  great-grandfathers  treatise?  " 

"A  little,"  answered  the  poet  ;  "he  said  that  wherever 
he  laid  his  finger,  whether  on  the  head,  the  hands,  or 
the  stomach,  he  everywhere  met  with  the  heart,  because 
its  vessels  go  into  all  the  members,  and  the  heart  is  the 
meeting  point  of  all  these  vessels.    Then  Nebsecht  pro- 

*  High-priest  of  Heliopolis. 
t  The  lion-headed  goddess. 

|  The  treatise  forms  the  most  interesting  section  of  the  papyrus  ]Eberst 
Published  by  W.  Engelmann,  Leipzig. 


Hard  A. 


ceeds  to  state  how  these  are  distributed  in  the  different 
members,  and  shows— is  it  not  so  ?— that  the  various 
mental  states,  such  as  anger,  grief,  aversion,  and  also  the 
ordinary  use  of  the  word  heart,  declare  entirely  for  his 
view. " 

"That  is  it.  We  have  already  discussed  it,  and  I  be- 
lieve that  he  is  right,  so  far  as  the  blood  is  concerned,  and 
the  animal  sensations.  But  the  pure  and  luminous  intel- 
ligence in  us— that  has  another  seat/' and  the  physician 
struck  his  broad  but  low  forehead  with  his  hand.  ' '  I  have 
observed  heads  by  the  hundred  down  at  the  place  of  exe- 
cution, and  I  have  also  removed  the  top  of  the  skulls  of 
living  animals.  But  now  let  me  write,  before  we  are 
disturbed/'* 

The  physician  took  the  reed,  moistened  it  with  black 
color  prepared  from  burnt  papyrus,  and  in  elegant  hieratic 
characters  f  wrote  the  paper  for  the  paraschites,  in  which 
he  confessed  to  having  impelled  him  to  the  theft  of  a  heart, 
and  in  the  most  binding  manner  declared  himself  willing 
to  take  the  old  mans  guilt  upon  himsef  before  Osiris  and 
the  judges  of  the  dead. 

When  he  had  finished,  Pentaur  held  out  his  hand  for 
the  paper,  but  Nebsecht  folded  it  together,  placed  it  in  a 
little  bag  in  which  lay  an  amulet  that  his  dying  mother 
had  hung  round  his  neck,  and  said,  breathing  deeply  : 

"That  is  done.    Farewell,  Pentaur." 

*  Human  brains  are  prescribed  for  a  malady  of  the  eyes  in  the  Ebers 
papyrus.  Herophilus,  one  of  the  first  scholars  of  the  Alexandrine 
Museum,  studied  not  only  the  bodies  of  executed  criminals,  but  made  his 
experiments  also  on  living  malefactors.  He  maintained  that  the  four 
cavities  of  the  human  brain  are  the  seat  of  .the  soul. 

t  At  the  time  of  our  narrative  the  Egyptians  had  two  kinds  of  writing 
—the  hieroglyphic,  which  was  generally  used  for  monumental  inscrip- 
tions, and  in  which  the  letters  consisted  of  conventional  representations 
of  various  objects,  mathematical  and  arbitrary  symbols,  and  the  hieratic, 
used  for  writing  on  papyrus,  and  in  which,  with  the  view  of  saving  time, 
the  written  pictures  underwent  so  many  alterations  and  abbreviations 
that  the  originals  could  hardly  be  recognized.  In  the  eighth  century 
there  was  a  further  abridgment  of  the  hieratic  writing,  which  was  called 
the  demotic,  or  people's  writing,  and  was  used  in  commerce.  While  the 
hieroglyphic  and  hieratic  writings  laid  the  foundations  of  the  old  sacred 
dialect,  the  demotic  letters  were  only  used  to  write  the  spoken  language 
of  the  people.  E.  de  Rouge's  Chrestomathie  Egyptienne.  H.  Brugsch's 
Hieroglyphische  Grammatik.  Le  Page  Renouf's  shorter  hieroglyph ical 
grammar. 


t^2  UARDA. 

But  the  poet  held  the  physician  back  ;  he  spoke  to  him 
with  the  warmest  words,  and  conjured  him  to  abandon  his 
enterprise.  His  prayers,  however,  had  no  power  to  touch 
Nebsecht,  who  only  strove  forcibly  to  disengage  his  finger 
from  Pentaur's  strong  hand,  which  held  him  as  in  a  clasp 
of  iron.  The  excited  poet  did  not  remark  that  he  was 
hurtino-  his  friend,  until  after  a  new  and  vain  attempt  at 
freeing  himself,  Nebsecht  cried  out  in  pain,  "  You  are 
crushing  my  finger  !  " 

A  smile  passed  over  the  poet's  face,  he  loosened  his 
hold  on  the  physician,  and  stroked  the  reddened  hand 
like  a  mother  who  strives  to  divert  her  child  from  pain. 

"Don't  be  angry  with  me,  Nebsecht,"  he  said,  "you 
know  my  unlucky  fists,  and  to-day  they  really  ought  to 
hold  you  fast,  for  you  have  too  mad  a  purpose  on  hand. 

"Mad  ? "  said  the  physician,  while  he  smiled  in  his  turn. 
«  It  may  be  so  ;  but  do  you  not  know  that  we  Egyptians 
all  have  a  peculiar  tenderness  for  our  follies,  and  are  ready 
to  sacrifice  house  and  land  to  them  ?  "  .  , 

"Our  own  house  and  our  own  land,  cried  the  poet : 
and  then  added  seriously,  "but  not  the  existence,  not  the 
happiness  of  another." 

<<  Have  I  not  told  you  that  I  do  not  look  upon  the  heart 
as  the  seat  of  our  intelligence  ?  So  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
I  would  as  soon  be  buried  with  a  ram's  heart  as  with  my 
ow_n  )> 

"I  do  not  speak  of  the  plundered  dead,  but  of  the 
living,"  said  the  poet.  "If  the  deed  of  the  paraschites  is 
discovered,  he  is  undone,  and  you  would  only  have  saved 
that  sweet  child  in  the  hut  behind  there,  to  fling  her  into 
deeper  misery. "  .  .  , 

Nebsecht  looked  at  the  other  with  as  much  astonish- 
ment and  dismay  as  if  he  had  been  awakened  from  sleep 
by  bad  tidings.  Then  he  cried :  "All  that  I  have,  I  would 
share  with  the  old  man  and  Uarda." 

"  And  who  would  protect  her  ?  " 

"Her  father." 

"That  rough  drunkard  who  to-morrow  or  the  day  altei 
may  be  sent  no  one  knows  where.  "  _ 

"  He  is  a  good  fellow,"  said  the  physician,  interrupting 
his  friend,  and  stammering  violently.     "  But  who  would 


UARDA. 


193 


do  anything  to  the  child  ?    She  is  so — so  She  is  so 

charming,  so  perfectly  sweet  and  lovely." 

With  these  last  words  he  cast  down  his  eyes  and  red- 
dened like  a  girl. 

"You  understand  that,"  he  said,  "better  than  I  do; 
yes,  and  you  also  think  her  beautiful !  Strange !  you 
must  not  laugh  if  I  confess — I  am  but  a  man  like  every 
one  else — when  I  confess,  that  I  believe  I  have  at  length 
discovered  in  myself  the  missing  organ  for  beauty  of  form 
— not  believe  merely,  but  truly  have  discovered  it,  for  it 
has  not  only  spoken,  but  cried,  raged,  till  I  felt  a  rushing 
in  my  ears,  and  for  the  first  time  was  attracted  more  by 
the  sufferer  than  by  suffering.  I  have  sat  in  the  hut  as 
though  spellbound,  and  gazed  at  her  hair,  at  her  eye,  at 
how  she  breathed.  They  must  long  since  have  missed 
me  at  the  House  of  Seti,  perhaps  discovered  all  my  prep- 
arations, when  seeking  me  in  my  room  !  For  two  days 
and  nights  I  have  allowed  myself  to  be  drawn  away  from 
my  work,  for  the  sake  of  this  child.  Were  I  one  of  the 
laity,  whom  you  would  approach,  I  should  say  that 
demons  had  bewitched  me.  But  it  is  not  that  " — and  with 
these  words  the  physician's  eyes  flamed  up — "it  is  not 
that  !  The  animal  in  me,  the  low  instincts  of  which  the 
heart  is  the  organ,  and  which  swelled  my  breast  at  her 
bedside,  they  have  mastered  the  pure  and  fine  emotions 
here — here  in  this  brain  ;  and  in  the  very  moment  when  I 
hoped  to  know  as  the  God  knows  whom  you  call  the 
Prince  of  knowledge,  in  that  moment  I  must  learn  that  the 
animal  in  me  is  stronger  than  that  which  I  call  my  God." 

The  physician,  agitated  and  excited,  had  fixed  his  eyes 
on  the  ground  during  these  last  words,  and  hardly  noticed 
the  poet,  who  listened  to  him  wondering  and  full  of  sym- 
pathy. For  a  time  both  were  silent  ;  then  Pentaur  laid 
his  hand  on  his  friend's  hand,  and  said  cordially  : 

"My  soul  is  no  stranger  to  what  you  feel,  and  heart  and 
head,  if  I  may  use  your  own  words,  have  known  a  like 
emotion.  But  I  know  that  what  we  feel,  although  it  may 
be  foreign  to  our  usual  sensations,  is  loftier  and  more  pre- 
cious than  these,  not  lower.  Not  the  animal,  Nebsecht, 
is  it  that  you  feel  in  yourself,  but  God.  Goodness  is  the 
most  beautiful  attribute  of  the  divine,  and  you  have  always 
been  well-disposed  toward  great  and  small ;  but  I  ask  you, 

«3 


m  UARDA. 

have  you  ever  before  felt  so  irresistibly  impelled  to  pour 
out  an  ocean  of  goodness  on  another  being,  whether  for 
Uarda  you  would  not  more  joyfully  and  more  self-forget- 
fully  sacrifice  all  that  you  have,  and  alHhat  you  are,  than 
to  father  and  mother  and  your  oldest  friend  ?  " 
Nebsecht  nodded  assentingly. 

<  '  Well,  then/'  cried  Pentaur,  "follow  your  new  and  god- 
like emotion,  be  good  to  Uarda  and  do  not  sacrifice  her  to 
your  vain  wishes.  My  poor  friend  !  With  your  inquiries 
into  the  secrets  of  life,  you  have  never  looked  round  upon 
life  itself,  which  spreads  open  and  inviting  before  our  eyes. 
Do  you  imagine  that  the  maiden  who  can  thus  inflame 
the  calmest  thinker  in  Thebes,  will  not  be  coveted  by  a 
hundred  of  the  common  herd  when  her  protector  fails  her  ? 
Need  I  tell  you  that  among  the  dancers  in  the  foreign 
quarter  nine  out  of  ten  are  the  daughters  of  outlawed 
parents  ?  Can  you  endure  the  thought  that  by  your  hand 
innocence  may  be  consigned  to  vice,  the  rose  trodden 
under  foot  in  the  mud  ?  Is  the  human  heart  that  you 
desire  worth  an  Uarda  ?  Now  go,  and  to-morrow  come 
again  to  me,  your  friend  who  understands  how  to  sympa- 
thize with  all  you  feel,  and  to  whom  you  have  approached 
so  much  the  nearer  to-day  that  you  have  learned  to  share 
his  purest  happiness."  .  ,  , 

Pentaur  held  out  his  hand  to  the  physican,  who  held  it 
some  time,  then  went  thoughtfully  and  lingeringly,  un- 
mindful of  the  burning  glow  of  the  midday  sun,  over  the 
mountain  into  the  valley  of  the  kings'  graves  toward  the 
hut  of  the  paraschites. 

Here  he  found  the  soldier  with  his  daughter.  "Where 
is  the  old  man  ? "  he  asked  anxiously. 

''He  has  gone  to  his  work  in  the  house  of  the  em- 
balmer,"was  the  answer.  "If  anything  should  happen 
to  him  he  bade  me  tell  you  not  to  forget  the  writing 
and  the  book.  He  was  as  though  out  of  his  mind  when 
he  left  us,  and  put  the  ram's  heart  in  his  bag  and  took  it 
with  him.  Do  you  remain  with  the  little  one  ;  my  mother 
is  at  work,  and  I  must  go  with  the  prisoners  of  war  to 
Harmontis."* 

*  The  Erment  of  to-day,  the  nearest  town  to  the  south  of  Thebes,  at  a 
day's  journey  from  that  city. 


UARDA. 


*95 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

While  the  two  friends  from  the  House  of  Seti  were  en- 
gaged in  conversation,  Katuti  restlessly  paced  the  large 
open  hall  of  her  son-in-law's  house,  in  which  we  have  al- 
ready seen  her.  A  snow-white  cat  followed  her  steps,  now 
playing  with  the  hem  of  her  long  plain  dress,  and  now 
turning  to  a  large  stand  on  which  the  dwarf  Nemu  sat  in 
a  heap,  where  formerly  a  silver  statue  had  stood,  which 
a  few  months  previously  had  been  sold. 

He  liked  this  place,  for  it  put  him  in  a  position  to  look 
into  the  eyes  of  his  mistress  and  other  full-grown  people 

"  If  you  have  betrayed  me  !  If  you  have  deceived  me  !  " 
said  Katuti,  with  a  threatening  gesture  as  she  passed  his 
perch. 

"  Put  me  on  a  hook  to  angle  for  a  crocodile,  if  I  have. 
But  I  am  curious  to  know  how  he  will  offer  you  the 
money. " 

"You  swore  to  me,"  interrupted  his  mistress,  with 
feverish  agitation,  "  that  you  had  not  used  my  name  in 
asking  Paaker  to  save  us  ?  " 

"  A  thousand  times  I  swear  it/'  said  the  little  man. 
"Shall  I  repeat  all  our  conversation?  I  tell  thee  he  will 
sacrifice  his  land,  and  his  house — great  gate  and  all,  for 
one  friendly  glance  from  Nefert  s  eyes." 

"  If  only  Mena  loved  her  as  he  does  !  "  sighed  the  widow, 
and  then  again  she  walked  up  and  down  the  hall  in 
silence,  while  the  dwarf  looked  out  at  the  garden  entrance. 
Suddenly  she  paused  in  front  of  Nemu,  and  said  so  hoarsely 
that  Nemu  shuddered  : 

"I  wish  she  were  a  widow." 

The  little  man  made  a  gesture  as  if  to  protect  himself 
from  the  evil  eye,  but  at  the  same  instant  he  slipped  down 
from  his  pedestal,  and  exclaimed  : 

"There  is  a  chariot,  and  I  hear  his  big  dog  barking.  It 
19  he.    Shall  I  call  Nefert?" 


i96  UARDA. 

"  No  !  "  said  Katuti,  in  a  low  voice,  and  she  clutched  d 
the  back  of  a  chair  as  if  for  support. 

The  dwarf  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  slunk  behind 
a  clump  of  ornamental  plants,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
Paaker  stood  in  the  presence  of  Katuti,  who  greeted  him 
with  quiet  dignity  and  self-possession. 

Not  a  feature  of  her  finely-cut  face  betrayed  her  inward 
agitation,  and  after  the  Mohar  had  greeted  her  she  said 
with  rather  patronizing  friendliness  :  _ 

"  I  thought  that  you  would  come.    Take  a  seat,  your 
'  heart  is  like  your  father's  ;  now  that  you  are  friends  with 
us  as:ain  it  is  not  by  halves."  .  , 

Paaker  had  come  to  offer  his  aunt  the  sum  which  was 
necessary  for  the  redemption  of  her  husbands  mummy. 
He  had  doubted  for  a  long  time  whether  he  should  not 
leave  this  to  his  mother,  but  reserve  partly  and  partly 
vanity  had  kept  him  from  doing  so 

He  would  have  preferred  to  send  the  gold,  which  he  had 
resolved  to  give  away,  by  the  hand  of  one  of  his  slaves, 
like  a  tributary  prince.  But  that  could  not  be  done  ;  so 
he  put  on  his  finger  a  ring  set  with  a  valuable  stone,  which 
King  Seti  had  given  to  his  late  father,  and  added  various 
clasps  and  bracelets  to  his  dress.  . 

When,  before  leaving  the  house,  he  looked  at  himself  in 
a  mirror,  he  said  to  himself,  with  some  satisfaction  that 
he,  as  he  stood,  was  worth  as  much  as  the  whole  ot 
Mena's  estates.  ,  ,,     ,      «  ;„ 

Since  his  conversation  with  Nemu,  and  the  dwarf  s  in- 
terpretation of  his  dream,  the  path  which  he  must  tread 
to  reach  his  aim  had  been  plain  before  him  Neferts 
mother  must  be  won  with  the  gold  which  would  save  her 
from  disgrace,  and  Mena  must  be  sent  to  the  other  world 
He  relied  chiefly  on  his  own  reckless  obstinacy— which 
he  liked  to  call  firm  determination— Nemu's  cunning,  and 

the  love-philter.  ...        ...  e 

He  now  approached  Katuti  with  the  certainty  of  suc- 
cess like  a  merchant  who  means  to  acquire  some  costly 
object,  and  feels  that  he  is  rich  enough  to  pay  for  it  But 
his  aunt's  proud  and  dignified  manner  confounded  him. 

He  had  pictured  her  quite  otherwise,  spirit-broken,  and 
suppliant  :  and  he  had  expected,  and  hoped  to  earn, 
Nefert's  thanks  as  well  as  her  mother's  by  his  generosity. 


UARDA. 


197 


Mena's  pretty  wife  was  however  absent ;  and  Katuti  did 
not  send  for  her  even  after  he  had  inquired  after  her 
health. 

The  widow  made  no  advances,  and  some  time  passed 
in  indifferent  conversation,  till  Paaker  abruptly  informed 
her  that  he  had  heard  of  her  son's  reckless  conduct,  and 
had  decided,  as  being  his  mother's  nearest  relation,  to  pre- 
serve her  from  the  degradation  that  threatened  her.  For 
the  sake  of  his  bluntness,  which  she  took  for  honesty, 
Katuti  forgave  the  magnificence  of  his  dress,  which  un- 
der the  circumstances  certainly  seemed  ill-chosen  ;  she 
thankedhim  with  dignity,  but  warmly,  more  for  the  sake  of 
her  children  than  for  her  own  ;  for  life,  she  said,  was  open- 
ing before  them,  while  for  her  it  was  drawing  to  its  close. 

"  You  are  still  at  a  good  time  of  life,"  said  Paaker. 

"  Perhaps  at  the  best,"  replied  the  widow  ;  "  at  any  rate 
from  my  point  of  view  ;  regarding  life  as  I  do  as  a  charge, 
a  heavy  responsibility." 

"The  adminstration  of  this  involved  estate  must  give 
you  many  anxious  hours — that  I  understand." 

Katuti  nodded,  and  then  said  sadly  : 

"I  could  bear  it  all,  if  I  were  not  condemned  to  see  my 
poor  child  being  brought  to  misery  without  being  able  to 
help  her  or  advise  her.  You  once  would  willingly  have 
married  her,  and  I  ask  you,  was  there  a  maiden  in  Thebes 

 nay  in  all  Egypt — to  compare  with  her  for  beauty  ? 

Was  she  not  worthy  to  be  loved,  and  is  she  not  so  still  ? 
Does  she  deserve  that  her  husband  should  leave  her  to 
starve,  neglect  her,  and  take  a  strange  woman  into  his 
tent  as  if  he  had  repudiated  her  ?  I  see  what  you  feel 
about  it  !  You  throw  all  the  blame  on  me.  Your  heart 
says:  ' Why  did  she  break  off  our  betrothal?'  and  your 
right  feeling  tells  you  that  you  would  have  given  her  a 
happier  lot." 

With  these  words  Katuti  took  her  nephew's  hand,  and 
went  on  with  increasing  warmth  : 

"We  know  you  to-day  for  the  most  magnanimous  man 
in  Thebes,  for  you  have  requited  injustice  with  an  im- 
mense benefaction  ;  but  even  as  a  boy  you  were  kind  and 
noble.  Your  fathers  wish  has  always  been  dear  and 
sacred  to  me,  for  during  his  lifetime  he  always  behaved  to 
us  as  an  affectionate  brother,  and  I  would  sooner  have 


I9g  UARDA. 

sown  the  seeds  of  sorrow  for  myself  than  for  your  mother, 
my  beloved  sister.  I  brought  up  my  child— I  guarded  her 
jealously— for  the  young  hero  who  was  absent,  proving 
his  valor  in  Syria— for  you  and  for  you  only.  Then  your 
father  died,  my  sole  stay  and  protector." 

"I  know  it  all  !  "  interrupted  Paaker,  looking  gloomily 
at  the  floor. 

< '  Who  should  have  told  you  ?  "  said  the  widow.  *  or 
your  mother,  when  that  had  happened  which  seemed  in- 
credible, forbid  us  her  house,  and  shut  her  ears.  The 
king  himself  urged  Mena's  suit,  for  he  loves  him  as  his 
own  son,  and  when  I  represented  your  prior  claim  he  com- 
manded—and who  may  resist  the  commands  of  the  sover- 
eign of  two  worlds,  the  Son  of  Ra  ?  Kings  have  short 
memories  ;  how  often  did  your  father  hazard  his  life  for 
him,  how  many  wounds  had  he  received  in  his  service  ? 
For 'your  father's  sake  he  might  have  spared  you  such  an 
affront,  and  such  pain." 

"And  have  I  myself  served  him,  or  not?  asked  the 
pioneer,  flushing  darkly. 

"He  knows  you  less,"  returned  Katuti,  apologetically. 
Then  she  changed  her  tone  to  one  of  sympathy,  and  went 

OI1"How  was  it  that  you,  young  as  you  were,  aroused  his 

dissatisfaction,  his  dislike,  nay,  his  " 

<<  His  what?  "  asked  the  pioneer,  trembling  with  excite- 
ment. ct*T*U 

"Let  that  pass!"  said  the  widow,  soothingly.  Ine 
favor  and  disfavor  of  kings  are  those  of  the  gods.  Men 
rejoice  in  the  one  or  bow  to  the  other." 

"What  feeling  have  I  aroused  in  Rameses  beside  dis- 
satisfaction and  dislike?  I  insist  on  knowing!"  said 
Paaker,  with  increasing  vehemence,  . 

"You  alarm  me,"  the  widow  declared.  "And  in 
speaking  ill  of  you,  his  only  motive  was  to  raise  his 
favorite  in  Nefert's  estimation. " 

"Tell  me  what  he  said !  "  cried  the  pioneer  ;  cold  drops 
stood  on  his  brown  forehead,  and  his  glaring  eyes  showed 
the  white  eyeballs.  ■  . 

Katuti  quailed  before  him,  and  drew  back,  but  he  fol- 
lowed her,  seized  her  arm,  and  said  huskily  : 

"What  did  he  say?  " 


UARDA. 


199 


"Paaker  !  "  cried  the  widow  in  pain  and  indignation. 
"  Let  me  go.  It  is  better  for  you  that  I  should  not  repeat 
the  words  with  which  Rameses  sought  to  turn  Nefert's 
heart  from  you.  Let  me  go,  and  remember  to  whom  you 
are  speaking." 

But  Paaker  gripped  her  elbow  the  tighter,  and  urgently 
repeated  his  question. 

"Shame  upon  you!"  cried  Katuti,  "you  are  hurting 
me  ;  let  me  go  !  You  will  not  till  you  have  heard  what 
he  said  ?  Have  your  own  way  then,  but  the  words  are 
forced  from  me  !  He  said  that  if  he  did  not  know  your 
mother  Setchem  for  an  honest  woman,  he  never  would 
have  believed  you  were  your  father's  son — for  you  were 
no  more  like  him  than  an  owl  to  an  eagle." 

Paaker  took  his  hand  from  Katutis  arm.  "And  so — 
and  so  "  he  muttered  with  pale  lips. 

"Nefert  took  your  part,  and  I  too,  but  in  vain.  Do 
not  take  the  words  too  hardly.  Your  father  was  a  man 
without  an  equal,  and  Rameses  cannot  forget  that  we 
are  related  to  the  old  royal  house.  His  grandfather,  his 
father,  and  himself  are  usurpers,  and  there  is  one  now 
living  who  has  a  better  right  to  the  throne  than  he  has." 

"The  Regent  Ani  !  "  exclaimed  Paaker,  decisively. 

Katuti  nodded ;  she  went  up  to  the  pioneer  and  said  in 
a  whisper  : 

"  I  put  myself  in  your  hands,  though  I  know  they  may 
be  raised  against  me.  But  you  are  my  natural  ally,  for 
that  same  act  of  Rameses  that  disgraced  and  injured  you 
made  me  a  partner  in  the  designs  of  Ani.  The  king 
robbed  you  of  your  bride,  me  of  my  daughter.  He  filled 
your  soul  with  hatred  for  your  arrogant  rival,  and  mine 
with  passionate  regret  for  the  lost  happiness  of  my  child. 
I  feel  the  blood  of  Hatasu  in  my  veins,  and  my  spirit  is 
high  enough  to  govern  men.  It  was  I  who  roused  the 
sleeping  ambition  of  the  regent — I  who  directed  his  gaze 
to  the  throne  to  which  he  was  destined  by  the  gods.  The 
ministers  of  the  gods,  the  priests,  are  favorably  disposed 
to  us  ;  we  have  " 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  garden, 
and  a  breathless  slave  rushed  in,  exclaiming  : 

"  The  regent  is  at  the  gate  !  " 

Paaker  stood  in  stupid  perplexity,  but  he  collected  him- 


200  UARDA. 

self  with  an  effort  and  would  have  gone,  but  Katuti  de- 
tained him.  ... 

"  I  will  go  forward  to  meet  Am,  she  said.  He  will 
be  rejoiced"  to  see  you,  for  he  esteems  you  highly,  and 
was  a  friend  of  your  father's." 

As  soon  as  Katuti  had  left  the  hall,  the  dwarf  Nemu 
crept  out  of  his  hiding-place,  placed  himself  in  front  of 
Paaker,  and  asked,  boldly  : 

"Well?    Did  I  give  thee  good  advice  yesterday,  or 

"°But  Paaker  did  not  answer  him  ;  he  pushed  him  aside 
with  his  foot,  and  walked  up  and  down  in  deep  thought. 

Katuti  met  the  regent  half  way  down  the  garden.  He 
held  a  manuscript  roll  in  his  hand,  and  greeted  her  from 
afar  with  a  friendly  wave  of  his  hand. 

The  widow  looked  at  him  with  astonishment. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  he  had  grown  taller  and  younger 
since  the  last  time  she  had  seen  him.      ,     '  .    .  , 

"Hail  to  your  highness !  "  she  cried  half  in  joke,  halt 
reverently,  and  she  raised  her  hands  in  supplication  as  if 
he  already  wore  the  double  crown  of  Upper  and  Lower 
Eo-vnt  "Have  the  nine  *  Gods  met  you?  Have  the 
Hathors  kissed  you  in  your  slumbers  ?  This  is  a  white 
day— a  lucky  day — I  read  it  in  your  face  ! 

"That  is  reading  a  cipher!  said  Am  gayly,  but  with 
dignity.     "  Read  this  dispatch." 

Katuti  took  the  roll  from  his  hand,  read  it  through,  and 

then  returned  it.  ,,.  , 

"The  troops  you  equipped  have  conquered  the  allied 
armies  of  the  Ethiopians,"  she  said,  gravely,  "  and  are 
bringing  their  prince  in  fetters  to  Thebes,  with  endless 
treasure,  and  ten  thousand   prisoners !    The  gods  be 

Pf"  And  above  all  things  I  thank  the  gods  that  my  Gen- 
eral Scheschenk— my  foster-brother  and  friend— is  return- 
ing' well  and  unwounded  from  the  war.  I  think,  Katuti, 
that  the  figures  in  our  dreams  are  this  day  taking  forms 
of  flesh  and  blood  !  " 

•The  Egyptians  commonly  classed  their  Gods 
but  also  sometimes  in  groups  of  8,  .3  and  15.    In  the  tale  of    1  he  Two 
Brothers,"  the  Holy  Nine  meet  Batau,  and  make  a  wife  for  him. 


UARDA. 


20I 


"  They  are  growing  to  the  stature  of  heroes  !  "  cried  the 
widow.  "And  you  yourself,  my  lord,  have  been  stirred 
by  the  breath  of  the  Divinity.  You  walk  like  the  worthy 
son  of  Ra,  the  courage  of  Menth  beams  in  your  eyes,  and 
you  smile  like  the  victorious  Horus." 

"Patience,  patience,  my  friend,"  saidAni,  moderating 
the  eagerness  of  the  widow  ;  "  now,  more  than  ever,  we 
must  cling  to  my  principle  of  overestimating  the  strength 
of  our  opponents,  and  underrating  our  own.  Nothing  has 
succeeded  on  which  I  had  counted,  and  on  the  contrary 
many  things  have  justified  my  fears  that  they  would  fail. 
The  beginning  of  the  end  is  hardly  dawning  on  us." 

"But  successes,  like  misfortunes,  never  come  singly," 
replied  Katuti. 

"I  agree  with  you,"  said  Ani.  "The  events  of  life 
seem  to  me  to  fall  in  groups.  Every  misfortune  brings  its 
fellow  with  it — like  every  piece  of  luck.  Can  you  tell  me 
of  a  second  success  ?  " 

"Women  win  no  battles,"  said  the  widow,  smiling. 
"But  they  win  allies,  and  I  have  gained  a  powerful  one." 

"A  god  or  an  army  ? "  asked  Ani. 

"Something  between  the  two,"  she  replied.  "  Paaker, 
the  king's  chief  pioneer,  has  joined  us  ;  "  and  she  briefly 
related  to  Ani  the  history  of  her  nephew's  love  and 
hatred. 

Ani  listened  in  silence  ;  then  he  said  with  an  expression 
of  much  disquiet  and  anxiety  : 

"This  man  is  a  follower  of  Rameses,  and  must  shortly 
return  to  him.  Many  may  guess  at  our  projects,  but  every 
additional  person  who  knows  them  may  become  a  traitor. 
You  are  urging  me,  forcing  me,  forward  too  soon.  A 
thousand  well-prepared  enemies  are  less  dangerous  than 
one  untrustworthy  ally  " 

"  Paaker  is  secured  to  us,"  replied  Katuti,  positively. 

"  Who  will  answer  for  him? "  asked  Ani. 

"His  life  shall  be  in  your  hand,"  replied  Katuti 
gravely.  "My  shrewd  little  dwarf  Nemu  knows  that  he 
has  committed  some  secret  crime,  which  the  law  punishes 
by  death." 

The  regent's  countenance  cleared. 

"That  alters  the  matter,"  he  said,  with  satisfaction. 

"  Has  he  committed  a  murder  ?  " 


2Q2  UARDA. 

"No,"  said  Katuti,  "but  Nemu  has  sworn  to  reveal 
to  you  alone  all  that  he  knows.  He  is  wholly  devoted  to 
us. " 

<  '  Well  and  good, "  said  Ani,  thoughtfully,  '  <  but  he  too  is 
imprudent—much  too  imprudent.  You  are  like  a  rider, 
who  to  win  a  wager  urges  his  horse  to  leap  over  spears. 
If  he  falls  on  the  points,  it  is  he  that  suffers  ;  you  let  him 
lie  there,  and  go  on  your  way." 

"Or  are  impaled  at  the  same  time  as  the  noble  horse, 
said  Katuti,  gravely.  "You  have  more  to  win,  and  at 
the  same  time  more  to  lose  than  we  ;  but  the  meanest 
clings  to  life  ;  and  I  must  tell  you,  Ani,  that  I  work  for 
you,  not  to  win  anything  through  your  success,  but  because 
you  are  as  dear  to  me  as  a  brother,  and  because  I  see  in 
you  the  embodiment  of  my  father's  claims  which  have 
been  trampled  on." 

Ani  gave  her  his  hand  and  asked  : 

"Did  you  also  as  my  friend  speak  to  Bent-Anat  ?  Do 
I  interpret  your  silence  rightly  ?  " 

Katuti  sadly  shook  her  head  ;  but  Am  went  on  :  Yester- 
day that  would  have  decided  me  to  give  her  up  ;  but  to-day 
my  courage  has  risen,  and  if  the  Hathors  be  my  friends 
I  may  yet  win  her." 

With  these  words  he  went  in  advance  of  the  widow  into 
the  hall,  where  Paaker  was  still  walking  uneasily  up 
and  down. 

The  pioneer  bowed  low  before  the  regent,  who  returned 
the  greeting  with  a  half-haughty,  half-familiar  wave  of  the 
hand  and  when  he  had  seated  himself  in  an  arm-chair,  po- 
litely addressed  Paaker  as  the  son  of  a  friend,  and  a  rela- 
tion of  his  family. 

■ '  All  the  world, "  he  said.  ' '  speaks  of  your  reckless  cour- 
age Men  like  you  are  rare  ;  I  have  none  such  attached  to 
me     I  wish  you  stood  nearer  to  me  ;  but  Rameses  will  not 

part  with  you,  although— although-   In  point  of  fact 

your  office  has  two  aspects  ;  it  requires  the  daring  ot  a 
soldier  and  the  dexterity  of  a  scribe.  No  one  denies  that  you 
have  the  first,  but  the  second— the  sword  and  the  reed-pen 
are  very  different  weapons,  one  requires  supple  fingers,  the 
other  a  sturdy  fist.  The  king  used  to  complain  of  your 
reports— is  he  better  satisfied  with  them  now  ? 

"  I  hope  so,"  replied  the  Mohar  ;  "my  brother  Horus 


UARDA. 


203 


is  a  practiced  writer,  and  accompanies  me  in  my 
journeys." 

That  is  well,"  said  Ani.  "  If  I  had  the  management 
of  affairs  I  should  treble  your  staff,  and  give  you  four — 
five — six  scribes  under  you,  who  would  be  entirely  at  your 
command,  and  to  whom  you  could  give  the  materials  for 
the  reports  to  be  sent  out.  Your  office  demands  that  you 
should  be  both  brave  and  circumspect ;  these  characteristics 
are  rarely  united  ;  but  there  are  scriveners  by  hundreds  in 
the  temples." 

"  So  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Paaker. 

Ani  looked  down  meditatively,  and  continued — "  Ram- 
eses  is  fond  of  comparing  you  with  your  father.  That  is 
unfair,  for  he — who  is  now  with  the  justified — was  with- 
out an  equal  ;  at  once  the  bravest  of  heroes  and  the  most 
skillful  of  scribes.  You  are  judged  unjustly  ;  and  it  grieves 
me  all  the  more  that  you  belong,  through  your  mother,  to 
my  poor  but  royal  house.  We  will  see  whether  I  cannot 
succeed  in  putting  you  in  the  right  place.  For  the  pres- 
ent you  are  required  in  Syria  almost  as  soon  as  you  have 
got  home.  You  have  shown  that  you  are  a  man  who  does 
not  fear  death,  and  who  can  render  good  service,  and  you 
might  now  enjoy  your  wealth  in  peace  with  your  wife." 

"I  am  alone,"  said  Paaker. 

' '  Then,  if  you  come  home  again,  let  Katuti  seek  you 
out  the  prettiest  wife  in  Egypt,"  said  the  regent,  smiling. 
11  She  sees  herself  every  day  in  her  mirror,  and  must  be  a 
connoisseur  in  the  charms  of  women." 

Ani  rose  with  these  words,  bowed  to  Paaker  with 
studied  friendliness  ;  gave  his  hand  to  Katuti,  and  said  as 
he  left  the  hall  : 

"Send  me  to-day  the — the  handkerchief— by  the  dwarf 
Nemu." 

When  he  was  already  in  the  garden,  he  turned  once 
more  and  said  to  Paaker  : 

"Some  friends  are  supping  with  me  to-day  ;  pray  let  me 
see  you  too." 

The  pioneer  bowed  ;  he  dimly  perceived  that  he  was  en- 
tangled in  invisible  toils.  Up  to  the  present  moment  he 
had  been  proud  of  his  devotion  to  his  calling,  of  his  duties 
as  Mohar;  and  now  he  had  discovered  that  the  king, 
whose  chain  of  honor  hung  round  his  neck,  undervalued 


204 


UAkDA. 


him,  and  perhaps  only  suffered  him  to  fill  his  arduous  and 
dangerous  post  for  the  sake  of  his  father,  while  he,  notwith- 
standing the  temptations  offered  him  in  Thebes  by  his 
wealth,  had  accepted  it  willingly  and  disinterestedly.  He 
knew  that  his  skill  with  a  pen  was  small,  but  that  was  no 
reason  why  he  should  be  despised  ;  often  had  he  wished 
that  he  could  reconstitute  his  office  -exactly  as  Ani  had 
suggested,  but  his  petition  to  be  allowed  a  secretary  had 
been  rejected  by  Rameses.  What  he  spied  out,  he  was 
told  was  to  be  kept  secret,  and  no  one  could  be  responsible 
for  the  secrecy  of  another. 

As  his  brother  Horus  grew  up,  he  had  followed  him  as 
his  obedient  assistant,  even  after  he  had  married  a  wife, 
who  with  her  child  remained  in  Thebes  under  the  care  of 
Setchem. 

He  was  now  filling  Paaker's  place  in  Syria  during  his 
absence  ;  badly  enough,  as  the  pioneer  thought,  and  yet 
not  without  credit ;  for  the  fellow  knew  how  to  write 
smooth  words  with  a  graceful  pen. 

Paaker,  accustomed  to  solitude,  became  absorbed  in 
thought,  forgetting  everything  that  surrounded  him  ;  even 
the  widow  herself,  who  had  sunk  on  to  a  couch,  and  was 
observing  him  in  silence. 

He  gazed  into  vacancy,  while  a  crowd  of  sensations 
rushed  confusedly  through  his  brain.  He  thought  himself 
cruelly  ill-used,  and  he  felt  too  that  it  was  incumbent  on 
him  to  become  the  instrument  of  a  terrible  fate  to  some 
other  person.  All  was  dim  and  chaotic  in  his  mind,  his 
love  merged  in  his  hatred ;  only  one  thing  was  clear  and 
unclouded  by  doubt,  and  that  was  his  strong  conviction 
that  Nefert  would  be  his. 

The  gods  indeed  were  in  deep  disgrace  with  him.  How 
much  he  had  depended  upon  them — and  with  what  a 
grudging  hand  they  had  rewarded  him  ;  he  knew  of  but 
one  indemnification  for  his  wasted  life,  and  in  that  he  be- 
lieved so  firmly  that  he  counted  on  it  as  if  it  were  capital 
which  he  had  invested  in  sound  securities.  But  at  this 
moment  his  resentful  feelings  embittered  the  sweet  dream 
of  hope,  and  he  strove  in  vain  for  calmness  and  clear- 
sightedness ;  when  such  cross-roads  as  these  met,  no 
amulet,  no  divining  rod  could  guide  him  ;  here  he  must 
think  for  himself,  and  beat  his  own  road  before  he  could 


UARDA, 


205 


walk  in  it ;  and  yet  he  could  think  out  no  plan,  and  arrive 
at  no  decision. 

He  grasped  his  burning  forehead  in  his  hands,  and 
started  from  his  brooding  reverie,  to  remember  where  he 
was,  to  recall  his  conversation  with  the  mother  of  the 
woman  he  loved,  and  her  saying  that  she  was  capable  of 
guiding  men. 

"  She  perhaps  may  be  able  to  think  for  me,"  he  mut- 
tered to  himself.     "  Action  suits  me  better." 

He  slowly  went  up  to  her  and  said  : 

"  So  it  is  settled  then — we  are  confederates." 

"Against  Rameses,  and  for  Ani,"  she  replied,  giving 
him  her  slender  hand. 

"In  a  few  days  I  start  for  Syria,  meanwhile  you  can 
make  up  your  mind  what  commissions  you  have  to  give 
me.  The  money  for  your  son  shall  be  conveyed  to  you 
to-day  before  sunset.  May  I  not  pay  my  respects  to 
Nefert  ?  " 

"  Not  now  ;  she  is  praying  in  the  temple." 
"  But  to-morrow  ?  " 

"Willingly,  my  dear  friend.    She  will  be  delighted  to 
see  you,  and  to  thank  you." 
"Farewell,  Katuti." 

"  Call  me  mother,"  said  the  widow,  and  she  waved  her 
veil  to  him  as  a  last  farewell. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

As  soon  as  Paaker  had  disappeared  behind  the  shrubs, 
Katuti  struck  a  little  sheet  of  metal,  a  slave  appeared,  and 
Katuti  asked  her  whether  Nefert  had  returned  from  the 
temple. 

"Her  litter  is  just  now  at  the  side  gate,"  was  the 
answer. 

"I  await  her  here,"  said  the  widow.  The  slave  went 
away,  and  a  few  minutes  later  Nefert  entered  the  hall. 

"You  want  me?"  she  said,  and  after  kissing  her 
mother  she  sank  upon  her  couch.  "  I  am  tired,"  she 
exclaimed  ;  "  Nemu,  take  a  fan  and  keep  the  flies  off  me." 

The  dwarf  sat  down  on  a  cushion  by  her  couch,  and 


2o6 


UARDA. 


began  to  wave  the  semi-circular  fan  of  ostrich-feathers  ; 
but  Katuti  put  him  aside  and  said  : 

"You  can  leave  us  for  the  present  ;  we  want  to  speak 
to  each  other  in  private." 

The  dwarf  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  got  up,  but 
Nefert  looked  at  her  mother  with  an  irrepressible  appeal 

"  Let  him  stay/'  she  said,  as  pathetically  as  if  her  whole 
happiness  depended  upon  it.  "  The  flies  torment  me  so, 
and  Nemu  always  holds  his  tongue." 

She  patted  the  dwarfs  big  head  as  if  he  were  a  large 
dog,  and  called  the  white  cat,  which  with  a  graceful  leap 
sprang  on  to  her  shoulder  and  stood  there  with  its  back 
arched,  to  be  stroked  by  her  slender  fingers. 

Nemu  looked  inquiringly  at  his  mistress,  but  Katuti 
turned  to  her  daughter,  and  said,  in  a  warning  voice  : 

' k  I  have  very  serious  things  to  discuss  with  you. " 

"  Indeed  ?  "  said  her  daughter,  "but  I  cannot  be  stung 
by  the  flies  all  the  same.    Of  course,  if  you  wish  it  " 

"  Nemu  may  stay  then,"  said  Katuti,  and  her  voice  had 
the  tone  of  that  of  a  nurse  who  gives  way  to  a  naughty 
child.     "Besides,  he  knows  what  I  have  to  talk  about." 

"There,  now!"  said  Nefert,  kissing  the  head  of  the 
white  cat,  and  she  gave  the  fan  back  to  the  dwarf. 

The  widow  looked  at  her  daughter  with  sincere  compas- 
sion; she  went  up  to  her  and  looked  for  the  thousandth  time 
in  admiration  at  her  pretty  face. 

"Poor  child,"  she  sighed,  "how  willingly  I  would 
spare  you  the  frightful  news  which  sooner  or  later  you 
must  hear — must  bear.  Leave  off  your  foolish  play  with 
the  cat,  I  have  things  of  the  most  hideous  gravity  to  tell 
you." 

1 '  Speak  on, "  replied  Nefert.  ' '  To-day  I  cannot  fear  the 
worst.  Mena's  star,  the  haruspex  told  me,  stands  under 
the  sign  of  happiness,  and  I  inquired  of  the  oracle  in  the 
temple  of  Besa,  and  heard  that  my  husband  is  prospering. 
I  have  prayed  in  the  temple  till  I  am  quite  content.  Only 
.speak  ! — I  know  my  brother  s  letter  from  the  camp  had 
no  good  news  in  it ;  the  evening  before  last  I  saw  you 
had  been  crying,  and  yesterday  you  did  not  look  well  ; 
even  the  pomegranate  flowers  in  your  hair  did  not  suit 
you." 

"Your  brother,"  sighed  Katuti,  "has  occasioned  me 


UARDA. 


207 


great  trouble,  and  we  might  through  him  have  suffered 
deep  dishonor  " 

<  <  We— dishonor  ?  "  exclaimed  Nefert,  and  she  nervously  " 
clutched  at  the  cat. 

' '  Your  brother  lost  enormous  sums  at  play  ;  to  recover 
them  he  pledged  the  mummy  of  your  father  " 

"  Horrible  !  "  cried  Nefert.  "We  must  appeal  at  once 
to  the  king;  I  will  write  to  him  myself;  for  Mena's  sake 
he  will  hear  me.  Rameses  is  great  and  noble,  and  will 
not  let  a  house  that  is  faithfully  devoted  to  him  fall  into 
disgrace  through  the  reckless  folly  of  a  boy.  Certainly  I 
will  write  to  him. " 

She^aid  this  in  a  voice  of  most  childlike  confidence,  and 
desired  Nemu  to  wave  the  fan  more  gently,  as  if  this  con- 
cern were  settled. 

In  Katuti's  heart  surprise  and  indignation  at  the  unnat- 
ural indifference  of  her  daughter  were  struggling  together ; 
but  she  withheld  all  blame,  and  said  carelessly  : 

"We  are  already  released,  for  my  nephew  Paaker,  as 
soon  as  he  heard  what  threatened  us,  offered  me  his  help- 
freely  and  unprompted,  from  pure  goodness  of  heart  and 
attachment." 

"How  good  of  Paaker  !  "  cried  Nefert.  u  He  was  so 
fond  of  me,  and  you  know,  mother,  I  always  stood  up  for 
him.  No  doubt  it  was  for  my  sake  that  he  behaved  so 
generously  !  " 

The  young  wife  laughed,  and  pulling  the  cat's  face  close 
to  her  own,  held  her  nose  to  its  cool  little  nose,  stared  into 
its  green  eyes,  and  said,  imitating  childish  talk  : 

"There,  now,  pussy — how  kind  people  are  to  your  little 
mistress. " 

Katuti  was  vexed  at  this  fresh  outburst  of  her  daughters 
childish  impulses. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  "  that  you  might  leave  off 
playing  and  trifling  when  I  am  talking  of  such  serious 
matters.  I  have  long  since  observed  that  the  fate  of  the 
house  to  which  your  father  and  mother  belong  is  a  matter 
of  perfect  indifference  to  you  ;  and  yet  you  would  have  to 
seek  shelter  and  protection  under  its  roof  if  your  hus- 
band " 

"Well,  mother?"  asked  Nefert,  raising  herself  and 
breathing  more  quickly. 


UARDA. 


As  soon  as  Katuti  perceived  her  daughter's  agitation  she 
regretted  that  she  had  not  more  gently  led  up  to  the  news 
she  had  to  break  to  her  ;  for  she  loved  her  daughter,  and 
knew  that  it  would  give  her  keen  pain. 
So  she  went  on  more  sympathetically  : 
"  You  boasted  in  joke  that  people  are  good  to  you,  and 
it  is  true  ;  you  win  hearts  by  your  mere  being — by  only 
being  what  you  are.  ,  And  Mena  too  loved  you  tenderly  ; 
but  '  absence/  says  the  proverb,  '  is  the  one  real  enemy/ 

and  Mena  " 

"  What  has  Mena  done  ?  "  Once  more  Nefert  interrupted 
her  mother,  and  her  nostrils  quivered. 

"Mena,"  said  Katuti,  decidedly,  "has  violated  the 
truth  and  esteem  which  he  owes  you — he  has  trodden 

them  under  foot,  and  " 

"  Mena  ?  "  exclaimed  the  young  wife  with  flashing  eyes  ; 
she  flung  the  cat  on  the  floor,  and  sprang  from  her  couch. 

"Yes — Mena,"  said  Katuti,  firmly.  "Your  brother 
writes  that  he  would  have  neither  silver  nor  gold  for  his 
spoil,  but  took  the  fair  daughter  of  the  prince  of  the  Danaids 
into  his  tent.    The  ignoble  wretch  !  " 

"  Ignoble  wretch  !  "  cried  Nefert,  and  two  or  three  times 
she  repeated  her  mother's  last  words.  Katuti  drew  back 
in  horror,  for  her  gentle,  docile,  childlike  daughter  stood 
before  her  absolutely  transfigured  beyond  all  recognition. 

She  looked  like  a  beautiful  demon  of  revenge ;  her  eyes 
sparkled,  her  breath  came  quickly,  her  limbs  quivered, 
and  with  extraordinary  strength  and  rapidity  she  seized 
the  dwarf  by  the  hand,  led  him  to  the  door  of  one  of  the 
rooms  which  opened  out  of  the  hall,  threw  it  open,  pushed 
the  little  man  over  the  threshold,  and  closed  it  sharply 
upon  him;  then  with  white  lips  she  came  up  to  her 
mother. 

"An  ignoble  wretch  did  you  call  him?"  she  cried  out 
with  a  hoarse,  husky  voice,  "an  ignoble  wretch  !  Take 
back  your  words,  mother,  take  back  your  words,  or  " 

Katuti  turned  paler  and  paler,  and  said  soothingly  : 

"  The  words  may  sound  hard,  but  he  has  broken  faith 
with  you,  and  openly  dishonored  you. " 

"And  shall  I  believe  it?  "said  Nefert,  with  a  scornful 
laugh.  "Shall  I  believe  it,  because  a  scoundrel  has  written 
it,  who  has  pawned  his  fathers  body  and  the  honor  of  his 


UARDA. 


family  ;  because  it  is  told  you  by  that  noble  and  brave 
gentleman  !  why  a  box  on  the  ears  from  Mena  would  be 
the  death  of  him.  Look  at  me,  mother,  here  are  my  eyes, 
and  if  that  table  there  were  Mena  s  tent,  and  you  were 
Mena,  and  you  took  the  fairest  woman  living  by  the  hand 
and  led  her  into  it,  and  these  eyes  saw  it— ay,  over  and 
over  again — I  would  laugh  at  it — as  I  laugh  at  it  now  ;  and 
I  should  say  :  1  Who  knows  what  he  may  have  to  give  her, 
or  to  say  to  her/  and  not  for  one  instant  would  I  doubt 
his  truth  ;  for  your  son  is  false  and  Mena  is  true.  Osiris 
broke  faith  with  Isis  * — but  Mena  may  be  favored  by  a 
hundred  women — he  will  take  none  to  his  tent  but  me  !  " 

"Keep  your  belief,"  said  Katuti,  bitterly,  "  but  leave 
me  mine/' 

"  Yours?  "  said  Nefert,  and  her  flushed  cheeks  turned 
pale  again.  ' '  What  do  you  believe  ?  You  listen  to  the 
worst  and  basest  things  that  can  be  said  of  a  man  who  has 
overloaded  you  with  benefits  !  A  wretch,  bah  !  an  ignoble 
wretch  ?  Is  that  what  you  call  a  man  who  lets  you  dis- 
pose of  his  estate  as  you  please  ? " 

"  Nefert,"  cried  Katuti,  angrily,   "  I  will  " 

"  Do  what  you  will,"  interrupted  her  indignant  daughter, 
"  but  do  not  villify  the  generous  man  who  has  never  hin- 
dered you  from  throwing  away  his  property  on  your  son's 
debts  and  your  own  ambition.  Since  the  day  before  yes- 
terday I  have  learned  that  we  are  not  rich  ;  and  I  have  re- 
flected, and  I  have  asked  myself  what  has  become  of  our 
corn  and  our  cattle,  of  our  sheep  and  the  rents  from  the 
farmers.  The  wretch's  estate  was  not  so  contemptible  ; 
but  I  tell  you  plainly  I  should  be  unworthy  to  be  the  wife 
of  the  noble  Mena  if  I  allowed  any  one  to  villify  his  name 
under  his  own  roof.  Hold  to  your  belief,  by  all  means, 
but  one  of  us  must  quit  this  house — you  or  I." 

At  these  words  Nefert  broke  into  passionate  sobs,  threw 
herself  on  her  knees  by  her  couch,  hid  her  face  in  the 
cushions,  and  wept  convulsively  and  without  intermission. 

Katuti  stood  behind  her,  startled,  trembling,  and  not 
knowing  what  to  say.  Was  this  her  gentle,  dreamy 
daughter?  Had  ever  a  daughter  dared  to  speak  thus  to 
her  mother?  But  was  she  right  or  was  Nefert?  This 
question  was  the  pressing  one  ;  she  knelt  down  by  the  aide 
*  See  Plutarch,  Isis  and  Osiris. 

14 


2IO 


UARDA. 


of  the  young  wife,  put  her  arm  round  her,  drew  her  head 
against  her  bosom,  and  whispered  pitifully  : 

'  'You  cruel,  hard-hearted  child  ;  forgive  your  poor,  mis- 
erable mother,  and  do  not  make  the  measure  of  her 
wretchedness  overflow." 

Then  Nefert  rose,  kissed  her  mothers  hand,  and  went 
silently  into  her  own  room. 

Katuti  remained  alone;  she  felt  as  if  a  dead  hand  held 
her  heart  in  its  icy  grasp,  and  she  muttered  to  herself  : 

"Ani  is  right — nothing  turns  to  good  excepting  that 
from  which  we  expect  the  worst. " 

She  held  her  hand  to  her  head,  as  if  she  had  heard 
something  too  strange  to  be  believed.  Her  heart  went 
after  her  daughter,  but  instead  of  sympathizing  with  her 
she  collected  all  her  courage,  and  deliberately  recalled  all 
the  reproaches  that  Nefert  had  heaped  upon  h'er.  She  did 
not  spare  herself  a  single  word,  and  finally  she  murmured 
to  herself:  ''She  can  spoil  everything.  For  Mena's  sake 
she  will  sacrifice  me  and  the  whole  world  ;  Mena  and 
Rameses  are  one,  and  if  she  discovers  what  we  are  plot- 
ting she  will  betray  us  without  a  moment's  hesitation. 
Hitherto  all  has  gone  on  without  her  seeing  it,  but  to-day 
something  has  been  unsealed  in  her — an  eye,  a  tongue, 
an  ear,  which  have  hitherto  been  closed.  She  is  like  a 
deaf  and  dumb  person,  who  by  a  sudden  fright  is  restored 
to  speech  and  hearing.  My  favorite  child  will  become  the 
spy  of  my  actions,  and  my  judge.  " 

She  gave  no  utterance  to  the  last  words,  but  she  seemed 
to  hear  them  with  her  inmost  ear ;  the  voice  that  could 
speak  to  her  thus,  startled  and  frightened  her,  and  solitude 
was  in  itself  a  torture  ;  she  called  the  dwarf,  and  desired 
him  to  have  her  litter  prepared,  as  she  intended  going  to 
the  temple,  and  visiting  the  wounded  who  had  been  sent 
home  from  Syria. 

' '  And  the  handkerchief  for  the  regent  ?  "  asked  the  little 
man. 

"It  was  a  pretext,"  said  Katuti.  "  He  wishes  to  speak 
to  you  about  the  matter  which  you  know  of  with  regard 
to  Paaker.    What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Do  not  ask,"  replied  Nemu,  "  I  ought  not  to  betray  it. 
By  Besa,  who  protects  us  dwarfs,  it  is  better  that  thou 
shouldst  never  know  it." 


UARDA. 


211 


"For  to-day  I  have  learned  enough  that  is  new  to  me," 
retorted  Katuti.  uNow  go  to  Ani,  and  if  you  are  able  to 
throw  Paaker  entirely  into  his  power — good — I  will  give — 
but  what  have  I  to  give  away  ?  I  will  be  grateful  to  you  ; 
and  when  we  have  gained  our  end  I  will  set  you  free  and 
make  you  rich/' 

Nemu  kissed  her  robe,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice  :  "  What 
is  the  end  ?  " 

"You  know  what  Ani  is  striving  for,"  answered  the 
widow.     "  And  I  have  but  one  wish  !  " 
"And  that  is  ?" 

"To  see  Paaker  in  Mena's  place." 

"Then  our  wishes  are  the  same,"  said  the  dwarf,  and 
he  left  the  hall. 

Katuti  looked  after  him,  and  muttered  : 

"It  must  be  so.  For  if  everything  remains  as  it  was 
and  Mena  comes  home  and  demands  a  reckoning — it  is 
not  to  be  thought  of !    It  must  not  be  !  " 


CHAPTER  XX. 

As  Nemu,  on  his  way  back  from  his  visit  to  Ani,  ap- 
proached his  mistress'  house,  he  was  detained  by  a  boy, 
who. desired  him  to  follow  him  to  the  strangers'  quarter. 
Seeing  him  hesitate,  the  messenger  showed  him  the  ring 
of  his  mother  Hekt,  who  had  come  into  the  town  on  busi- 
ness, and  wanted  to  speak  with  him. 

Nemu  was  tired,  for  he  was  not  accustomed  to  walking  ; 
his  ass  was  dead,  and  Katuti  could  not  afford  to  give  him 
another.  Half  of  Mena's  beasts  had  been  sold,  and  the 
remainder  barely  sufficed  for  the  field-labor. 

At  the  corners  of  the  busiest  streets,  and  on  the  market- 
places, stood  boys  with  asses  which  they  hired  out  for  a 
small  sum  ;  *  but  Nemu  had  parted  with  his  last  money  for 

*  In  the  streets  of  modern  Egyptian  towns  asses  stand  saddled  for 
hire.  On  the  monuments  only  foreigners  are  represented  as  riding  on 
asses,  but  these  beasts  are  mentioned  in  almost  every  list  of  the  posses- 
sions of  the  nobles,  even  in  very  early  times,  and  the  number  is  often 
considerable.  There  is  a  picture  extant  of  a  rich  old  man  who  rides  on 
a  seat  supported  on  the  backs  of  two  donkeys.  Lepsius,  Denkmaler,  part 
u,  126. 


?I2 


UARDA. 


a  garment  and  a  new  wig,  so  that  he  might  appear 
worthily  attired  before  the  regent.  In  former  times  his 
pocket  had  never  been  empty,  for  Mena  had  thrown  him 
many  a  ring  of  silver,  or  even  of  gold,  but  his  restless  and 
ambitious  spirit  wasted  no  regrets  on  lost  luxuries.  He 
remembered  those  years  of  superfluity  with  contempt,  and 
as  he  puffed  and  panted  on  his  way  through  the  dust  he 
felt  himself  swell  with  satisfaction. 

The  regent  had  admitted  him  to  a  private  interview,  and 
the  little  man  had  soon  succeeded  in  riveting  his  attention  ; 
Ani  had  laughed  till  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  at 
Nemu's  description  of  Paaker's  wild  passion,  and  he  had 
proved  himself  in  earnest  over  the  dwarfs  further  commu- 
nications, and  had  met  his  demands  half  way.  Nemu  felt 
like  a  duck  hatched  on  dry  land,  and  put  for  the  first  time 
into  water  ;  like  a  bird  hatched  in  a  cage,  and  that  for  the 
first  time  is  allowed  to  spread  its  wings  and  fly.  He  would 
have  swam  or  have  flown  willingly  to  death  if  circum- 
stances had  not  set  a  limit  to  his  zeal  and  energy. 

Bathed  in  sweat  and  coated  with  dust,  heat  last  reached 
the  gay  tent  in  the  strangers'  quarter, #  where  the  sorceress 
Hekt  was  accustomed  to  alight  when  she  came  over  to 
Thebes. 

He  was  considering  far-reaching  projects,  dreaming  of 
possibilities,  devising  subtle  plans — rejecting  them  as  too 
subtle,  and  supplying  their  place  with  others  more  feasible 
and  less  dangerous  ;  altogether  the  little  diplomatist  had 
no  mind  for  the  motley  tribes  which  here  surrounded  him. 
He  had  passed  the  temple  in  which  the  people  of  Kafl 
adored  their  Goddess  Astarte,f  and  the  sanctuary  of  Seth, 
where  they  sacrificed  to  Baal,  J  without  letting  himself  be 
disturbed  by  the  dancing  devotees  or  the  noise  of  cymbals 

*  Herodotus  mentions  theTyrian  quarter  of  Memphis,  which  lay  south- 
ward from  the  temple  of  Ptah,  and  in  which  £eivr}  ' Acfxrodliii,  i.  e.,  the 
foreign  Aphrodite  was  worshiped.  Brugsch  has  identified  it  with  the 
quarter  of  the  city  called  the  "  world  of  life.'7 

t  Astarte,  the  great  goddess  of  the  Phoenicians,  frequently  appears  on 
the  monuments  as  Sechet.  At  Edfu  she  is  represented  with  the  lioness- 
head,  and  drives  a  chariot  drawn  by  horses.  Her  name  frequently  oc- 
curs in  papyri  of  the  time  of  our  story  with  that  of  Rameses  II.,  as  well 
as  of  a  favorite  horse  and  dog  of  the  king's. 

%  According  to  the  papyrus  Sallier  I.,  the  Hyksos-king  Apepi-Apophis 
"chose  Seth  for  his  lord,  and  worshiped  no  other  god  in  Egypt."  In 


UARDA. 


213 


and  music  which  issued  from  their  inclosures.  The  tents 
and  slightly-built  wooden  houses  of  the  dancing  girls  did 
not  tempt  him.  Besides  their  inhabitants,  who  in  the 
evening  tricked  themselves  out  in  tinsel  finery  to  lure  the 
youth  of  Thebes  into  extravagance  and  folly,  and  spent 
their  days  in  sleeping  till  sundown,  only  the  gambling 
booths  drove  a  brisk  business  ;  and  the  guard  of  police  had 
much  trouble  to  restrain  the  soldier,  who  had  staked  and 
lost  all  his  prize-money,  or  the  sailor,  who  thought  himself 
cheated,  from  such  outbreaks  of  rage  and  despair  as  must 
end  in  bloodshed.  Drunken  men  lay  in  front  of  the  tav- 
erns, and  others  were  doing  their  utmost,  by  repeatedly 
draining  their  beakers,  to  follow  their  example. 

Nothing  was  yet  to  be  seen  of  the  various  musicians, 
jugglers,  fire-eaters,  serpent-charmers,  and  conjurers,  who 
in  the  evening  displayed  their  skill  in  this  part  of  the  town, 
which  at  all  times  had  the  aspect  of  a  never-ceasing  fair. 
But  these  delights,  which  Nemu  had  passed  a  thousand 
times,  had  never  had  any  temptation  for  him.  Women 
and  gambling  were  not  to  his  taste  ;  that  which  could  be 
had  simply  for  the  taking,  without  trouble  or  exertion, 
offered  no  charms  to  his  fancy ;  he  had  no  fear  of  the  ridi- 
cule of  the  dancing-women,  and  their  associates — indeed, 
he  occasionally  sought  them,  for  he  enjoyed  a  war  of  words, 
and  he  was  of  opinion  that  no  one  in  Thebes  could  beat 
him  at  having  the  last  word.  Other  people,  indeed,  shared 
this  opinion,  and  not  long  before  Paaker's  steward  had 
said  of  Nemu : 

"Our  tongues  are  cudgels,  but  the  little  one's  is  a 
dagger. v 

The  destination  of  the  dwarf  was  a  very  large  and  gaudy 
tent,  not  in  any  way  distinguished  from  a  dozen  others  in 
its  neighborhood.  The  opening  which  led  into  it  was 
wide,  but  at  present  closed  by  a  hanging  of  coarse  stuff. 

later  times,  the  Semitic  god  Baal  was  called  Seth  by  the  Egyptians  them- 
selves, as  we  learn  from  the  treaty  of  peace  of  Rameses  II.  with  the 
Cheta,  found  at  Karnak,  in  which  on  one  side  the  Seth  of  the  Cheta  (a 
different  god),  and  Astarte  are  invoked,  and  on  the  other  the  Egyptian 
gods.  The  form  "  Sutech  "  occurs  with  "  Seth."  Seth-Typhon  is  dis- 
cussed in  "  Etudes  egyptologiques  "  by  Diestel,  "  Voyage  d'un  Egyptien  " 
by  Chabas,  "  ^Egypten  und  die  Biicher  Moses  "  by  Ebers,  and  lately  by 
E.  Meyer,  in  his  "  Dissertation  iiber  Seth."  The  Phoenician  religion  is 
exhaustively  treated  by  Moyers. 


214 


UARDA. 


Nemu  squeezed  himself  in  between  the  edge  of  the  tent 
and  the  yielding  door,  and  found  himself  in  an  almost  cir- 
cular tent  with  many  angles,  and  with  its  cone-chaped 
roof  supported  on  a  pole  by  way.  of  a  pillar. 

Pieces  of  shabby  carpet  lay  on  the  dusty  soil  that  was 
the  floor  of  the  tent,  and  on  these  squatted  some  gayly- 
clad  girls,  whom  an  old  woman  was  busily  engaged  in 
dressing.  She  painted  the  finger  and  toe-nails  of  the  fair 
ones  with  orange-colored  Hennah,  blackened  their  brows 
and  eyelashes  with  Mestem*  to  give  brilliancy  to  their 
glance,  painted  their  cheeks  with  white  and  red,  and 
anointed  their  hair  with  scented  oil.  It  was  very  hot  in 
the  tent,  and  not  one  of  the  girls  spoke  a  word  ;  theysat 
perfectly  still  before  the  old  woman,  and  did  not  stir  a 
finger,  excepting  now  and  then  to  take  up  one  of  the 
porous  clay  pitchers,  which  stood  on  the  ground,  for  a 
draught  of  water,  or  to  put  a  pill  of  Kyphi  between  their 
painted  lips. 

Various  musical  instruments  leaned  against  the  walls  ot 
the  tent,  hand-drums,  pipes  and  lutes,  and  four  tambou- 
rines lay  on  the  ground  ;  on  the  vellum  of  one  slept  a  cat, 
whose  graceful  kittens  played  with  the  bells  in  the  hoop 
of  another. 

An  old  negro  woman  went  in  and  out  of  the  little  back 
door  of  the  tent,  pursued  by  flies  and  gnats,  while  she 
cleared  away  a  variety  of  earthen  dishes  with  the  remains 
of  food— pomegranate-peelings,  bread-crumbs,  and  garlic- 
tops— which  had  been  lying  on  one  of  the  carpets  for  some 
hours  since  the  girls  had  finished  their  dinner. 

Old  Hekt  sat  apart  from  the  girls  on  a  painted  trunk, 
and  she  was  saying,  as  she  took  a  parcel  from  her  wallet  : 

"  Here,  take  this  incense,  and  burn  six  seeds  of  it,  and 

the  vermin  will  all  disappear  "  she  pointed  to  the  flies 

that  swarmed  round  the  platter  in  her  hand.  "If  you 
like  I  will  drive  away  the  mice  too  and  draw  the  snakes 
out  of  their  holes  better  than  the  priests,  "f 

"  Keep  your  magic  to  yourself,"  said  a  girl,  in  a  husky 
voice.  "  Since  you  muttered  your  words  over  me,  and 
gave  me  that  drink  to  make  me  grow  slight  and  lissom 


t  Recipes  for  exterminating  noxious  creatures  are  found  in  the  papyrus 
in  my  possession. 


UARDA.  2  IS 

again,  I  have  been  shaken  to  pieces^with  a  cough  at  night, 
and  turn  faint  when  I  am  dancing."  ' 

"But  look  how  slender  you  have  grown,  answered 
Hekt,  "  and  your  cough  will  soon  be  well." 

< <  When  I  am  dead, "  whispered  the  girl  to  the  old  woman. 
"  I  know  that — most  of  us  end  so  ." 

The  witch  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  perceiving  the 
dwarf  she  rose  from  her  seat.  . 

The  girls  too  noticed  the  little  man,  and  set  up  the  inde- 
scribable cry,  something  like  the  cackle  of  hens,  which  is 
peculiar  to  Eastern  women  when  something  tickles  their 
fancy.  Nemu  was  well  known  to  them,  for  his  mother 
always  stayed  in  their  tent  whenever,  she  came  to  Thebes, 
and  the  gayest  of  them  cried  out : 

"You  are  grown,  little  man,  since  the  last  time  you 
were  here."  •  - 

"So  are  you,"  said  the  dwarf,  sharply;  "but  only  as 
far  as  big  words  are  concerned." 

"And  you  are  as  wicked  as  you  are  small,"  retorted  the 
girl. 

"Then  my  wickedness  is  small  too,"  said  the  dwarf, 
laughing,  "  for  I  am  little  enough  !  Good-morning,  girls- 
may  Besa  help  your  beauty.  Good-day,  mother— you 
sent  for  me?"  . 

The  old  woman  nodded  ;  the  dwarf  perched  himself  on 
the  chest  beside  her,  and  they  began  to  whisper  together. 

"  How  dusty  and  tired  you  are,"  said  Hekt.  ^  I  do  be- 
lieve you  have  come  on  foot  in  the  burning  sun." 

"My  ass  is  dead,"  replied  Nemu,  "and  I  have  no 
money  to  hire  a  steed." 

"A  foretaste  of  future  splendor,"  said  the  old  woman, 
with  a  sneer.     "What  have  you  succeeded  in  doing  ?  " 

"Paaker  has  saved  us,"  replied  Nemu,  "and  I  have 
just  come  from  a  long  interview  with  the  regent." 

"Well?" 

"  He  will  renew  your  letter  of  freedom,  if  you  will  put 
Paaker  into  his  power." 

"Good — good.  I  wish  he  would  make  up  his  mind 
to  come  and  seek  me— in  disguise,  of  course.  I 
would  " 

"  He  is  very  timid,  and  it  would  not  be  wise  to  suggest 
to  him  anything  so  unpracticable." 


UARDA. 


"  Hm  !  "  said  Hekt,  "perhaps  you  are  right,  for  when 
we  have  to  demand  a  good  deal  it  is  best  only  to  ask  for 
what  is  feasible.  One  rash  request  often  altogether  spoils 
the  patron's  inclination  for  granting  favors." 

' '  What  else  has  occurred  ?  " 

"  The  regents  army  has  conquered  the  Ethiopians,  and 
is  coming  home  with  rich  spoils. " 

"People  maybe  bought  with  treasure,"  muttered  the 
old  woman,  "  good — good  !  " 

"  Paaker  's  sword  is  sharpened  ;  I  would  give  no  more 
for  my  master's  life,  than  I  have  in  my  pocket — and  you 
know  why  I  came  on  foot  through  the  dust." 

' '  Well,  you  can  ride  home  again,"  replied  his  mother, 
giving  the  little  man  a  small  silver  ring.  "Has  the 
pioneer  seen  Nefert  again  ?  " 

"Strange  things  have  happened,"  said  the  dwarf,  and 
he  told  his  mother  what  had  taken  place  between  Katuti 
and  Nefert.  Nemu  was  a  good  listener,  and  had  not  for- 
gotten a  word  of  what  he  had  heard. 

The  old  woman  listened  to  his  story  with  the  most 
eager  attention. 

"Well,  well,"  she  muttered,  "  here  is  another  extraordi- 
nary thing.  What  is  common  to  all  men  is  generally  dis- 
gustingly similar  in  the  palace  and  in  the  hovel.  Mothers 
are  everywhere  she-apes,  who  with  pleasure  let  themselves 
be  tormented  to  death  by  their  children,  who  repay  them 
badly  enough,  and  the  wives  generally  open  their  ears 
wide  if  any  one  can  tell  them  of  some  misbehavior  of 
their  husbands  !  But  that  is  not  the  way  with  your  mis- 
tress. " 

The  old  woman  looked  thoughtful,  and  then  she  con- 
tinued : 

"In  point  of  fact  this  can  be  easily  explained,  and  is 
not  at  all  more  extraordinary  than  it  is  that  those  tired 
girls  should  sit  yawning.  You  told  me  once  that  it  was 
a  pretty  sight  to  see  the  mother  and  daughter  side  by  side 
in  their  chariot  when  they  goto  a  festival  or  the  Panegyrai ; 
Katuti,  you  said,  took  care  that  the  colors  of  their  dresses 
and  the  flowers  in  their  hair  should  harmonize.  For 
which  of  them  is  the  dress  first  chosen  on  such  occa- 
sions ? " 


UAR£>A. 


"Always  for  the  lady  Katuti,  who  never  wears  any  but 
certain  colors/'  replied  Nemu,  quickly. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  witch,  laughing,  "  indeed  it  must 
be  so.  That  mother  always  thinks  of  herself  first,  and  of 
the  objects  she  wishes  to  gain  ;  but  they  hang  high,  and 
she  treads  down  everything  that  is  in  her  way — even  her 
own  child — to  reach  them.  She  will  contrive  that  Paaker 
shall  be  the  ruin  of  Mena,  as  sure  as  I  have  ears  to  hear 
with,  for  that  woman  is  capable  of  playing  any  tricks  with 
her  daughter,  and  would  marry  her  to  that  lame  dog  yon- 
der if  it  would  advance  her  ambitious  schemes. " 

"But  Nefert  !  "  said  Nemu,  "you  should  have  seen  her. 
The  dove  became  a  lioness." 

"  Because  she  loves  Mena  as  much  as  her  mother  loves 
herself/'  answered  Hekt.  "As  the  poets  say,  'she  is  full 
of  him/  It  is  really  true  of  her,  there  is  no  room  for  any- 
thing else.  She  cares  for  one  only,  and  woe  to  those  who 
come  between  him  and  her  !  " 

"I  have  seen  other  women  in  love,"  said  Nemu, 
"but  " 

"But,"  exclaimed  the  old  witch,  with  such  a  sharp 
laugh  that  the  girls  all  looked  up,  "  they  behave  differ- 
ently to  Nefert.  I  believe  you,  for  there  is  not  one  in  a 
thousand  that  loves  as  she  does.  It  is  a  sickness  that  gives 
raging  pain — like  a  poisoned  arrow  in  an  open  wound,  arid 
devours  all  that  is  near  it  like  a  fire-brand,  and  is  harder 
to  cure  than  the  disease  which  is  killing  that  coughing 
wench.  To  be  possessed  by  that  demon  of  anguish  is  to 
suffer  the  torture  of  the  uamned — or  else,"  and  her  voice 
sank  to  softness,  "to  be  more  blest  than  the  gods,  happy 
as  they  are..  I  know — I  know  it  all  ;  for  I  was  once  one 
of  the  possessed,  one  of  the  thousand,  and  even  now — — " 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  the  dwarf. 

"Folly!"  muttered  the  witch,  stretching  herself  as  if 
awakening  from  sleep.  "Madness!  He — is  so  long 
dead,  and  if  he  were  not  it  would  be  all  the  same  to  me. 
All  men  are  alike,  and  Mena  will  be  like  the  rest." 

"But  Paaker  surely  is  governed  by  the  demon  you  de- 
scribe ?  "  asked  the  dwarf. 

"Maybe,"  replied  his  mother;  "but  he  is  self-willed  to 
madness.  He  would  simply  give  his  life  for  the  thing  be- 
cause it  is  denied  him.      If  your  mistress  Nefert  were  his, 


2l8 


UARDA. 


perhaps  he  might  be  easier  ;  but  what  is  the  use  of  chatter- 
ing? I  must  go  over  to  the  gold  tent,  where  every  one 
goes  now  who  has  any  money  in  their  purse,  to  speak  to 
the  mistress  " 

"  What  do  you  want  with  her  ?  "  interrupted  Nemu. 

"  Little  Uarda,  over  there/'  said  the  old  woman,  "  will 
soon  be  quite  well  again.  You  have  seen  her  lately  ;  is 
she  not  grown  beautiful,  wonderfully  beautiful  ?  Now  I 
shall  see  what  the  good  woman  will  offer  me  if  I  take 
Uarda  to  her.  The  girl  is  as  light-footed  as  a  gazelle,  and 
with  good  training  would  learn  to  dance  in  a  very  few 
weeks." 

Nemu  turned  perfectly  white. 

"That  you  shall  not  do,"  said  he,  positively. 

"And  why  not?"  asked  the  old  woman,  "if  it  pavs 
well."  F  y 

"Because  I  forbid  it,"  said  the  dwarf,  in  a  choked  voice. 

"Bless  me,"  laughed  the  woman;  "you  want  to  play 
my  lady  Nefert,  and  expect  me  to  take  the  part  of  her 
mother  Katuti.  But,  seriously,  having  seen  the  child 
again,  have  you  any  fancy  for  her?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Nemu.  "  If  we  gain  our  end,  Katuti 
will  make  me  free,  and  make  me  rich.  Then  I  will  buy 
Pin  em's  grandchild,  and  take  her  for  my  wife.  I  will 
build  a  house  near  the  hall  of  justice,  and  give  the  com- 
plainants and  defendants  private  advice,  like  the  hunch- 
back Sent,  who  now  drives  through  the  streets  in  his  own 
chariot. " 

"Hm  !  "  said  his  mother,  "  that  might  have  done  very 
well,  but  perhaps  it  is  too  late.  When  the  child  had  fever 
she  talked  about  the  young  priest  who  was  sent  from  the 
House  of  Seti  by  Ameni.  He  is  a  fine  tall  fellow,  and 
took  a  great  interest  in  her ;  he  is  a  gardener's  son  named 
Pentaur. " 

"  Pentaur?  "  said  the  dwarf.  "  Pentaur  ?  He  has  the 
haughty  air  and  the  expression  of  the  old  Mohar,  and 
would  be  sure  to  rise ;  but  they  are  going  to  break  his 
proud  neck  for  him." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  said  the  old  woman.  "  Uarda 
would  be  just  the  wife  for  you,  she  is  good  and  steady, 
and  no  one  knows  " 

"What?"  said  Nemu. 


UARDA. 


219 


"  Who  her  mother  was — for  she  was  not  one  of  us.  She 
came  here  from  foreign  parts  when  she  died,  and  she  left  a 
trinket  with  strange  letters  on  it.  We  must  show  it  to  one 
of  the  prisoners  of  war,  after  you  have  got  her  safe  ;  per- 
haps they  could  make  out  the  queer  inscription.  She 
comes  of  a  good  stock,  that  I  am  certain  ;  for  Uarda  is  the 
'very  living  image  of  her  mother,  and  as  soon  as  she  was 
born  she  looked  like  the  child  of  a  great  man.  You  smile, 
you  idiot  !  Why,  thousands  of  infants  have  been  in  my 
hands,  and  if  one  was  brought  to  me  wrapped  in  rags  I 
could  tell  if  its  parents  were  noble  or  base-born.  The 
shape  of  the  foot  shows  it — and  other  marks.  Uarda  may 
stay  where  she  is,  and  I  will  help  you.  If  anything  new 
occurs  let  me  know." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

When  Nemu,  riding  on  an  ass  this  time,  reached  home, 
he  found  neither  his  mistress  nor  Nefert  within. 

The  former  was  gone,  first  to  the  temple,  and  then  into 
the  town  ;  Nefert,  obeying  an  irresistible  impulse,  had 
gone  to  her  royal  friend  Bent-Anat. 

The  king's  palace  was  more  like  a  little  town  than 
a  house.*  The  wing  in  which  the  regent  resided,  and 
which  we  have  already  visited,  lay  away  from  the  river ; 
while  the  part  of  the  building  which  was  used  by  the 
royal  family  commanded  the  Nile. 

It  offered  a  splendid,  and  at  the  same  time  a  pleasing 
prospect  to  the  ships  which  sailed  by  at  its  foot,  for  it 
stood,  not  a  huge  and  solitary  mass  in  the  midst  of  the 
surrounding  gardens,  but  in  picturesque  groups  of  various 
outline.  On  each  side  of  a  large  structure,  which  con- 
tained the  state-rooms  and  banqueting  hall,  three  rows  of 

*The  view  accepted  by  many  writers  that  the  temples  were  also  the 
king's  palace,  is  erroneous.  In  the  best-preserved  temples,  as  at  Dendera 
and  Edfu,  we  know  the  purpose  of  the  several  rooms,  and  they  were  all 
devoted  to  the  service  of  the  gods.  We  learn  from  the  monuments  that 
the  kings  inhabited  extensive  buildings  surrounded  by  gardens,  and  con- 
structed of  light  materials.  The  palaces  resembled,  in  fact,  the  houses 
the  nobles,  but  were  on  a  larger  scale. 


220  UARDA. 

pavilions  of  different  sizes  extended  in  symmetrical  order. 
They  were  connected  with  each  other  by  colonnades,  or 
by  little  bridges,  under  which  flowed  canals,  that  watered 
the  gardens  and  gave  the  palace-grounds  the  aspect  of  a 
town  built  on  islands. 

The  principal  part  of  the  castle  of  the  Pharaohs  was  con- 
structed of  light  Nile-mud  bricks  and  elegantly  carved 
wood-work,  but  the  extensive  walls  which  surrounded  it 
were  ornamented  and  fortified  with  towers,  in  front  of 
which  heavily-armed  soldiers  stood  on  guard. 

The  walls  and  pillars,  the  galleries  and  colonnades,  even 
the  roofs,  blazed  in  many-colored  paints,  and  at  every  gate 
stood  tall  masts,  from  which  red  and  blue  flags  fluttered 
when  the  king  was  residing  there.  Now  they  stood  up 
with  only  their  brass  spikes,  which  were  intended  to  inter- 
cept and  conduct  the  lightning.  . 

To  the  right  of  the  principal  building,  and  entirely  sur- 
rounded with  thick  plantations  of  trees,  stood  the  house  of 
the  royal  ladies,  some  mirrored  in  the  lake  which  they  sur- 
rounded at  a  greater  or  less  distance.  In  this  part  of  the 
grounds  were  the  kings  storehouses  in  endless  rows, 
while  behind  the  center  building,  in  which  the  Pharaoh 
resided,  stood  the  barracks  for  his  body-guard  and  the 
treasuries.  The  left  wing  was  occupied  by  the  officers  of 
the  household,  the  innumerable  servants  and  the  horses 
and  chariots  of  the  sovereign.  .  . 

In  spite  of  the  absence  of  the  king  himself,  brisk  activity 
reigned  in  the  palace  of  Rameses,  for  a  hundred  gardeners 
watered  the  turf,  the  flower-borders,  the  shrubs  and  trees  ; 
csmpanies  of  guards  passed  hither  and  thither;  horses 
were  being  trained  and  broken  ;  and  the  princess'  wing 
was  as  full  as  a  bee-hive  of  servants  and  maids,  officers 
and  priests. 

Nefert  was  well  known  in  this  part  of  the  palace.  lne 
gate-keepers  let  her  litter  pass  unchallenged,  with  low 
bows  ;  once  in  the  garden,  a  lord  in  waiting  received  her, 
and  conducted  her  to  the  chamberlain,  who,  after  a  short 
delay,  introduced  her  into  the  sitting-room  of  the  king  s 
favorite  daughter.  t     -  ,  •_  * 

Bent-Anafs  apartment  was  on  the  first  floor  of  the  pavil- 
ion next  to  the  kings  residence.  Her  dead  mother  had 
inhabited  these  pleasant  rooms,  and  when  the  princess  was 


UARDA. 


2  2  j 


grown  up  it  made  the  king  happy  to  feel  that  she  was  neai 
him  ;  so  the  beautiful  house  of  the  wife  who  had  too  early 
departed  was  given  up  to  her,  and  at  the  same  time,  as 
she  was  his  eldest  daughter,  many  privileges  were  con- 
ceded to  her,  which  hitherto  none  but  queens  had  enjoyed. 

The  large  room,  in  which  Nefert  found  the  princess, 
commanded  the  river.  A  doorway,  closed  with  light 
curtains,  opened  on  to  a  long  balcony  with  a  finely  worked 
balustrade  of  copper-gilt,  to  which  clung  a  climbing  rose 
with  pink  flowers. 

When  Nefert  entered  the  room,  Bent-Anat  was  just 
having  the  rustling  curtain  drawn  aside  by  her  waiting- 
women  ;  for  the  sun  was  setting,  and  at  that  hour  she 
loved  to  sit  on  the  balcony,  as  it  grew  cooler,  and  watch 
with  devout  meditation  the  departure  of  Ra,  who,  as  the 
gray-haired  Turn,  vanished  behind  the  western  horizon  of 
the  Necropolis  in  the  evening  to  bestow  the  blessing  of 
light  on  the  under-world. 

Neferts  apartment  was  far  more  elegantly  appointed 
than  the  princess'  ;  her  mother  and  Mena  had  surrounded 
her  with  a  thousand  pretty  trifles.  Her  carpets  were  made 
of  sky-blue  and  silver  brocade  from  Damascus,  the  seats 
and  couches  were  covered  with  stuff,  embroidered  in 
feathers  by  the  Ethiopian  women,  which  looked  like  the 
breasts  of  birds.  The  images  of  the  Goddess  Hatljor, 
which  stood  on  the  house-altar,  were  of  an  imitation  of 
emerald,  which  was  called  Mafkat,  and  the  other  little 
figures,  which  were  placed  near  the  patroness,  were  of 
lapis-lazuli,  malachite,  agate  and  bronze,  overlaid  with 
gold.  On  her  toilet-table  stood  a  collection  of  salve-boxes, 
and  cups  of  ebony  and  ivory  finely  carved,  and  everything 
was  arranged  with  the  utmost  taste,  and  exactly  suited 
Nefert  herself. 

Bent-Anat  s  room  also  suited  the  owner. 

It  was  high  and  airy,  and  its  furniture  consisted  in  costly 
but  simple  necessaries  ;  the  lower  part  of  the  wall  was  lined 
with  cool  tiles  of  white  and  violet  earthenware,  on  each  of 
which  was  pictured  a  star,  and  which,  all  together,  formed 
a  tasteful  pattern.  Above  these  the  walls  were  covered 
with  a  beautiful  dark  green  material  brought  from  Sais,  and 
the  same  stuff  was  used  to  cover  the  long  divans  by  the 
wall.    Chairs  and  stools,  made  of  cane,  stood  round  a  very 


222 


UARDA. 


large  table  in  the  middle  of  this  room,  out  of  which  several 
others  opened  ;  all  handsome,  comfortable,  and  harmoni- 
ous in  aspect,  but  all  betraying  that  their  mistress  took 
small  pleasure  in  trifling  decorations.  But  her  chief  delight 
was  in  finely-grown  plants,  of  which  rare  and  magnificent 
specimens,  artistically  arranged  on  stands,  stood  in  the 
corners  of  many  of  the  rooms.  In  others  there  were  tall 
obelisks  of  ebony,  which  bore  saucers  for  incense,  which 
all  the  Egyptians  loved,  and  which  was  prescribed  by  their 
physicians  to  purify  and  perfume  their  dwellings.  Her 
simple  bedroom  would  have  suited  a  prince  who  loved 
floriculture  quite  as  well  as  a  princess. 

Before  all  things  Bent-Anat  loved  air  and  light.  The 
curtains  of  her  windows  and  doors  were  only  closed  when 
the  position  of  the  sun  absolutely  required  it ;  while  in 
Nefert's  rooms,  from  morning  till  evening,  a  dim  twilight 
was  maintained. 

The  princess  went  affectionately  toward  the  charioteers 
wife,  who  bowed  low  before  her  at  the  threshold  ;  she  took 
her  chin  with  her  right  hand,  kissed  her  delicate  narrow 
forehead,  and  said  : 

' 'Sweet  creature  !  At  last  you  have  come  uninvited  to 
see  lonely  me  !  It  is  the  first  time  since  our  men  went 
away  to  the  war.  If  Rameses'  daughter  commands  there 
is  iiq  escape,  and  you  come  ;  but  of  your  own  free  will  " 

Nefert  raised  her  large  eyes,  moist  with  tears,  with  an 
imploring  look,  and  her  glance  was  so  pathetic  that  Bent- 
Anat  interrupted  herself,  and  taking  both  her  hands, 
exclaimed  : 

"  Do  you  know  who  must  have  eyes  exactly  like  yours  ? 
I  mean  the  goddess  from  whose  tears,  when  they  fall  on 
the  earth,  flowers  spring." 

Nefert's  eyes  fell  and  she  blushed  deeply. 

"I  wish,"  she  murmured,  "that  my  eyes  might  close 
forever,  for  I  am  very  unhappy."  And  two  large  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"What  has  happened  to  you,  my  darling  ?"  asked  the 
princess,  sympathetically,  and  she  drew  her  toward  her, 
putting  her  arm  round  her  like  a  sick  child. 

Nefert  glanced  anxiously  at  the  chamberlain,  and  the 
ladies  in  waiting  who  had  entered  the  room  with  her,  and 
Bent-Anat  understood  the  look  ;  she  requested  her  attend- 


UARDA. 


ants  to  withdraw,  and  when  she  was  alone  with  her  sad 
little  friend— " Speak  now/'  she  said.  "What  saddens 
your  heart  ?  How  comes  this  melancholy  expression  on 
your  dear  baby-face  ?  Tell  me,  and  I  will  comfort  you,  and 
you  shall  be  my  bright,  thoughtless  plaything  once  more." 

"  Thy  plaything  !  "  answered  Nefert,  and  a  flash  of  dis- 
pleasure sparkled  in  her  eyes.  '  '  Thou  art  right  to  call 
me  so,  for  I  deserve  no  better  name.  I  have  submitted 
all  my  life  to  be  nothing  but  the  plaything  of  others." 

"But,  Nefert,  I  do  not  know  you  again,"  cried  Bent- 
Anat.    "  Is  this  my  gentle,  amiable  dreamer?  " 

'  <  That  is  the  word  I  wanted, "  said  Nefert,  in  a  low  tone. 
"I slept,  and  dreamed,  and  dreamed  on— till  Mena  awoke 
me  ;  and  when  he  left  me  I  went  to  sleep  again,  and  for 
two  whole  yeais  I  have  lain  dreaming  ;  but  to-day  I  have 
been  torn  from  my  dreams  so  suddenly  and  roughly  that 
I  shall  never  find  any  rest  again." 

While  she  spoke  heavy  tears  fell  slowly  one  after  another 
over  her  cheeks. 

Bent-Anat  felt  what  she  saw  and  heard  as  deeply  as  if 
Nefert  were  her  own  suffering  child.  She  lovingly  drew 
the  young  wife  down  by  her  side  on  the  divan,  and  in- 
sisted on  Nefert's  letting  her  know  all  that  troubled  her 
spirit. 

Katutfs  daughter  had  in  the  last  few  hours  felt  like  one 
born  blind,  and  who  suddenly  receives  his  sight.  He  looks 
at  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  and  the  manifold  forms  of 
the  creation  around  him,  but  the  beams  of  the  day-star 
blind  his  eyes,  and  the  new  forms,  which  he  has  sought  to 
guess  at  in  his  mind,  and  which  throng  round  him  in  their 
rude  reality,  shock  him  and  pain  him.  To-day,  for  the 
first  time,  she  had  asked  herself  wherefore  her  mother, 
and  not  she  herself,  was  called  upon  to  control  the  house 
of  which  she  nevertheless  was  called  the  mistress,  and  the 
answer  had  rung  in  her  ears  :  "  Because  Mena  thinks  you 
incapable  of  thought  and  action."  He  had  often  called 
her  his  little  rose,  and  she  felt  now  that  she  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  flower  that  blossoms  and  fades,  and 
only  charms  the  eye  by  its  color  and  beauty. 

"  My  mother,"  she  said  to  Bent-Anat,  "no  doubt  loves 
me,  but  she  has  managed  badly  for  Mena,  very  badly; 
and  I,  miserable  idiot,  slept  and  dreamed  of  Mena,  and 


224  UARDA. 

saw  and  heard  nothing  of  what  was  happening  to  his— 
to  our— inheritance.  Now  my  mother  is  afraid  of  my 
husband,  and  those  whom  we  fear,  says  my  uncle^  we 
cannot  love,  and  we  are  always  ready  to  believe  evil  of 
those  we  do  not  love.  So  she  lends  an  ear  to  those  people 
who  blame  Men  a,  and  say  of  him  that  he  has  driven  me 
out  of  his  heart,  and  has  taken  a  strange  woman  to  his  tent. 
But  it  is  false  and  a  lie  ;  and  I  cannot  and  will  not  counte- 
nance my  own  mother  even,  if  she  embitters  and  mars  what 
is  left  to  me— what  supports  me— the  breath  and  blood  of 
my  life— my  love,  my  fervent  love  for  my  husband." 

Bent- An  at  had  listened  to  her  without  interrupting  her  ; 
she  sat  by  her  for  a  time  in  silence.    Then  she  said  : 

"Come  out  into  the  gallery  ;  then  I  will  tell  you  what  I 
think,  and  perhaps  Toth  may  pour  some  helpful  counsel 
into  my  mind.  I  love  you,  and  I  know  you  well,  and 
though  I  am  not  wise,  I  have  my  eyes  open  and  a  strong 
hand.    Take  it,  come  with  me  on  to  the  balcony." 

A  refreshing  breeze  met  the  two  women  as  they  stepped 
out  into  the  air.  It  was  evening,  and  a  reviving  coolness 
had  succeeded  the  heat  of  the  day.  The  buildings  and 
houses  already  cast  long  shadows,  and  numberless  boats 
with  the  visitors  returning  from  the  Necropolis  crowded 
the  stream  that  rolled  its  swollen  flood  majestically  north- 
ward. ~  ,  . 

Close  below  lay  the  verdant  garden,  which  sent  odors 
from  the  rose-beds  up  to  the  princess'  balcony.  A  famous 
artist  had  laid  it  out  in  the  time  of  Hatasu,  and  the  picture 
which  he  had  in  his  mind,  when  he  sowed  the  seed  and 
planted  the  young  shoots,  was  now  realized,  many  decades 
after  his  death.  He  had  thought  of  planning  a  carpet,  on 
which  the  palace  should  seem  to  stand.  Tiny  streams,  in 
bends  and  curves,  formed  the  outline  of  the  design,  and 
the  shapes  they  inclosed  were  filled  with  plants  of  every 
size  form,  and  color  ;  beautiful  plants  of  fresh  green  turt 
everywhere  represented  the  groundwork  of  the  pattern, 
and  flower-beds  and  clumps  of  shrubs  stood  out  from  tnem 
in  harmonious  mixture  of  colors,  while  the  tall  and  rare 
trees,  of  which  Hatasu's  ships  had  brought  several  from 
Arabia  gave  dignity  and  impressiveness  to  the  whole. 

Clear  drops  sparkled  on  leaf  and  flower  and  blade,  for, 
only  a  short  time  before,  the  garden  by  Bent-Anats  house 


UARDA. 


225 


had  been  freshly  watered.  The  Nile  beyond  surrounded 
an  island,  where  flourished  the  well-kept  sacred  grove  of 
Amon. 

The  Necropolis  on  the  farther  side  of  the  river  was  also 
well  seen  from  Bent-Anat's  balcony.  There  stood  in  long 
perspective  the  rows  of  sphinxes,  which  led  from  the  land- 
ing-place of  the  festal  barges  to  the  gigantic  buildings  of 
Amenophis  III,  with  its  colossi — the  hugest  in  Thebes — to 
the  House  of  Seti,  and  to  the  temple  of  Hatasu.  There 
lay  the  long  workshops  of  the  embalmers  and  closely 
packed  homes  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  City  of  the  Dead. 
In  the  farthest  west  rose  the  Libyan  mountains  with  their 
innumerable  graves,  and  the  valley  of  the  kings'  tombs 
took  a  wide  curve  behind,  concealed  by  a  spur  of  the  hills. 

The  two  women  looked  in  silence  toward  the  west.  The 
sun  Was  near  the  horizon — now  it  touched  it,  now  it  sank 
behind  the  hills  ;  and  as  the  heavens  flushed  with,  hues 
like  living  gold,  blazing  rubies,  and  liquid  garnet  and 
amethyst,  the  evening  chant  rang  out  from  all  the  temples, 
and  the  friends  sank  on  their  knees,  hid  their  faces  in  the 
bowery  rose  garlands  that  clung  to  the  trellis,  and  prayed 
with  full  hearts. 

When  they  rose  night  was  spreading  over  the  landscape, 
for  the  twilight  is  short  in  Thebes.  Here  and  there  a  rosy 
cloud  fluttered  across  the  darkening  sky,  and  faded  grad- 
ually as  the  evening  star  appeared. 

"Iam  content,''  said  Bent-Anat.  "And  you?  have 
you  recovered  your  peace  of  mind  ?  " 

Nefert  shook  her  head.  The  princess  drew  her  on  to  a 
seat,  and  sank  down  beside  her.    Then  she  began  again  : 

"  Your  heart  is  sore,  poor  child  ;  they  have  spoiled  the 
past  for  you,  and  you  dread  the  future.  Let  me  be  frank 
with  you,  even  if  it  gives  you  pain.  You  are  sick,  and  I 
must  cure  you.    Will  you  listen  to  me  ?  " 

"Speak  on,"  said  Nefert. 

"Speech  does  not  suit  me  so  well  as  action,"  replied  the 
princess  ;  "but  I  believe  I  know  what  you  need,  and  can 
help  you.  You  love  your  husband  ;  duty  calls  him  from 
you,  and  you  feel  lonely  and  neglected  ;  that  is  quite  nat- 
ural. But  those  whom  I  love,  my  father  and  my  brothers, 
are  also  gone  to  the  war  ;  my  mother  is  long  since  dead  ; 
the  noble  woman,  whom  the  king  left  to  be  my  companion, 
15 


226 


UARDA. 


was  laid  low  a  few  weeks  since  by  sickness.  Look  what 
a  half-abandoned  spot  my  house  is  !  Which  is  the  lonelier 
do  you  think,  you  or  I  ?  " 

"I,"  said  Nefert.  "  For  no  one  is  so  lonely  as  a  wife 
parted  from  the  husband  her  heart  longs  after." 

"But  you  trust  Mena's  love  for  you?  "  asked  Bent-  Anat. 

Nefert  pressed  her  hand  to  her  heart  and  nodded  assent. 

"And  he  will  return,  and  with  him  your  happiness." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Nefert,  softly. 

"And  he  who  hopes,"  said  Bent-Anat,  "possesses 
already  the  joys  of  the  future.  Tell  me,  would  you  have 
changed  places  with  the  gods  so  long  as  Mena  was  with 
you  ?  No  !  Then  you  are  most  fortunate,  for  blissful 
memories — the  joys  of  the  past — are  yours  at  any  rate. 
What  is  the  present  ?  I  speak  of  it,  and  it  is  no  more. 
Now,  I  ask  you,  what  joys  can  I  look  forward  to, 'and 
what  certain  happiness  am  I  justified  in  hoping  for?  " 

"Thou  dost  not  love  any  one,"  replied  Nefert.  "  Thou 
dost  follow  thy  own  course,  calm  and  undeviating  as 
the  moon  above  us.  The  highest  joys  are  unknown  to 
thee,  but  for  the  same  reason  thou  dost  not  know  the  bit- 
terest pain." 

"What  pain  ?  "  asked  the  princess. 

"The  torment  of  a  heart  consumed  by  the  fires  of 
Sechet,"  replied  Nefert. 

The  princess  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  ground,  then 
she  turned  her  eyes  eagerly  on  her  friend. 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  she  said  ;  "  I  know  what  love  and 
longing  are.  But  you  need  only  wait  till  a  feast  day  to 
wear  the  jewel  that  is  your  own,  while  my  treasure  is  no 
more  mine  than  a  pearl  that  I  see  gleaming  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea." 

"Thou  canst  love  !  "  exclaimed  Nefert,  with  joyful  excite- 
ment. "Oh  !  I  thank  Hathor  that  at  last  she  has  touched 
thy  heart.  The  daughter  of  Rameses  need  not  even  send 
for  the  diver  to  fetch" the  jewel  out  of  the  sea  ;  at  a  sign 
from  her  the  pearl  will  rise  of  itself,  and  lie  on  the  sand  at 
her  slender  feet. " 

Bent-Anat  smiled  and  kissed  Nefert  s  brow. 

"  How  it  excites  you,"  she  said,  "  and  stirs  your  heart 
and  tongue  !  If  two  strings  are  tuned  in  harmony,  and  one- 
is  struck,  the  other  sounds,  my  music-master  tells  me.  I 


UARDA. 


227 


believe  you  would  listen  to  me  till  morning  if  I  only  talked 
to  you  about  my  love.  But  it  was  not  for  that  that  we 
came  out  on  the  balcony.  Now  listen  !  I  am  as  lonely  as 
you,  I  love  less  happily  than  you,  the  House  of  Seti 
threatens  me  with  evil  times — and  yet  I  can  preserve  my 
full  confidence  in  life  and  my  joy  in  existence.  How  can 
you  explain  this  ?  " 

"  We  are  so  very  different,"  said  Nefert. 

"  True,"  replied  Bent-Anat,  "but  we  are  both  young, 
both  women,  and  both  wish  to  do  right.  My  mother  died, 
and  I  have  had  no  one  to  guide  me,  for  I  who  for  the  most 
part  need  some  one  to  lead  me  can  already  command  and 
be  obeyed.  You  had  a  mother  to  bring  you  up,  who, 
when  you  were  still  a  child,  was  proud  of  her  pretty  little 
daughter,  and  let  her — as  it  became  her  so  well — dream 
and  play,  without  warning  her  against  the  dangerous 
propensity.  Then  Mena  courted  you.  You  love  him 
truly,  and  in  four  long  years  he  has  been  with  you  but  a 
month  or  two  ;  your  mother  remained  with  you,  and  you 
hardly  observed  that  she  was  managing  your  own  house 
for  you,  and  took  all  the  trouble  of  the  household.  You 
had  a  great  pastime  of  your  own — your  thoughts  of 
Mena,  and  scope  for  a  thousand  dreams  in  your  distant 
love.  I  know  it,  Nefert ;  all  that  you  have  seen  and  heard 
and  felt  in  these  twenty  months  has  centered  in  him  and 
him  alone.  Nor  is  it  wrong  in  itself.  The  rose-tree  here, 
which  clings  to  my  balcony,  delights  us  both  ;  but  if  the 
gardener  did  not  frequently  prune  it  and  tie  it  with  palm- 
bast,  in  this  soil,  which  forces  everything  to  rapid  growth, 
it  would  soon  shoot  up  so  high  that  it  would  cover  door 
and  window,  and  I  should  sit  in  darkness.  Throw  this 
handkerchief  over  your  shoulders,  fo\*  the  dew  falls  as  it 
grows  cooler,  and  listen  to  me  a  little  longer  !  The  beauti- 
ful passion  of  love  and  fidelity  has  grown  unchecked  in  your 
dreamy  nature  to  such  a  height  that  it  darkens  your  spirit 
and  your  judgment.  Love,  a  true  love,  it  seems  tome, 
should  be  a  noble  fruit-tree,  and  not  a  rank  weed.  I  do  not 
blame  you,  for  she  who  should  have  been  the  gardener 
did  not  heed — and  would  not  heed — what  was  happening. 
Look,  Nefert,  so  long  as  Iworethe  lock  of  youth,  I  too  did 
what  I  fancied.  I  never  found  any  pleasure  in  dreaming, 
but  in  wild  games  with  my  brothers,  in  horses,  and  in  fa> 


228 


UARDA. 


conry  ;  *  they  often  said  I  had  the  spirit  of  a  boy,  and 
indeed  I  would  willingly  have  been  a  boy/' 
««Not  I — never  !  "  said  Nefert. 

"You  are  just  a  rose,   my  dearest,"  said  Bent-Anat. 
"Well!  when  I  was  fifteen  I  was  so  discontented,  so  in- 
subordinate and  full  of  all  sorts  of  wild  behavior,  so 
dissatisfied,  in  spite  of  all  the  kindness  and  love  that 
surrounded  me— but  I  will  tell  you  what  happened.  It 
is   four  years  ago,   shortly  before  your  wedding  with 
Mena;  my  father   called  me  to  play   draughts,  f  You 
know  how  certainly  he  could  beat  the  most  skillful  an- 
tagonist ;  but  that  day  his  thoughts  were  wandering,  and 
I  won  the  game  twice  following.    Full  of  insolent  de- 
light,  I  jumped   up   and   kissed  his   great  handsome 
forehead,  and  cried  '  The  sublime  god,  the  hero,  under 
whose  feet  the  strange  nations  writhe,  to  whom  the  priests 
and  the  people  pray — is  beaten  by  a  girl !  '    He  smiled 
gently,  and  answered,  '  The  lords  of  Heaven  are  often  out- 
done by  the  ladies,  and  Necheb,  %  the  lady  of  victory,  is  a 
woman/    Then  he  grew  graver,  and  said  :  '  You  call  me  a 
god,  my  child,  but  in  this  only  do  I  feel  truly  godlike, 
that  at  every  moment  I  strive  to  the  utmost  to  prove  myself 
useful  by  my  labors  ;  here  restraining,  there  promoting,  as 
is  needful.  §    Godlike  I  can  never  be  but  by  doing  or  pro- 
ducing something  great  ! '    These  words,  Nefert,  fell  like 
seed  in  my  soul.    At  last  I  knew  what  it  was  that  was 
wanting  to  me  ;  and  when,  a  few  weeks  later,  my  father 
and  your  husband  took  the  field  with  a  hundred  thousand 
fighting  men,   I  resolved  to  be   worthy  of  my  godlike 
father,  and  in  my  little  circle  to  be  of  use  too  !    You  do 
not  know  all  that  is  done  in  the  houses  behind  there, 


*  In  many  papyri  of  the  period  of  this  narrative  the  training  of  falcons 
is  mentioned.  . 

jAtMedinet  Habu  a  picture  represents  Rameses  the  inird,  not 
Rameses  the  Second,  playing  at  draughts  with  his  daughter.  f 

t  The  Eileithyia  of  the  Greeks.  The  goddess  of  the  South,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  Buto,  the  goddess  of  the  North.  She  often  flies,  in  the 
form  of  a  vulture,  as  the  goddess  of  victory  at  the  head  of  the  troops  led 
to  war  by  the  Pharaoh. 

§  The  crook-shaped  staff,  and  the  whip  or  scourge  are  emblems  rarely 
missing  from  the  representations  of  the  Pharaohs,  and  several  of  the 
gods ;  they  probably  refer  to  the  duty  of  a  king,  who  must  exercise  both 
restraint  and  coercion. 


UARDA. 


229 


under  my  direction.  Three  hundred  girls  spin  'pure  flax, 
and  weave  it  into  bands  of  linen  for  the  wounds  of  the  sol- 
diers ;  numbers  of  children,  and  old  women,  gather  plants 
on  the  mountains,  and  others  sort  them  according  to  the 
instructions  of  a  physician  ;  in  the  kitchens  no  banquets 
are  prepared,  but  fruits  are  preserved  in  sugar  for  the 
loved  ones,  and  the  sick  in  the  camp.  Joints  of  meat  are 
salted,  dried,  and  smoked  for  the  army  on  its  march 
through  the  desert.  The  butler  no  longer  thinks  of  drink- 
ing-bouts, but  brings  me  wine  in  great  stone  jars  ;  we  pour 
it  into  well-closed  skins  for  the  soldiers,  and  the  best  sorts 
we  put  into  strong  flasks,  carefully  sealed  with  pitch,  that 
they  may  perform  the  journey  uninjured,  and  warm  and 
rejoice  the  hearts  of  our  heroes.  All  that,  and  much  more, 
I  manage  and  arrange,  and  my  days  pass  in  hard  work. 
The  gods  send  me  no  bright  visions  in  the  night,  for  after 
utter  fatigue  I  sleep  soundly.  But  I  know  that  I  am  of 
use.  I  can  hold  my  head  proudly,  because  in  some  de- 
gree I  resemble  my  great  father  ;  and  if  the  king  thinks 
of  me  at  all  I  know  he  can  rejoice  in  the  doings  of  his 
child.  That  is  the  end  of  it,  Nefert — and  I  only  say,  come 
and  join  me,  work  with  me,  prove  yourself  of  use,  and 
compel  Mena  to  think  of  his  wife,  not  with  affection  only, 
but  with  pride. "  Nefert  let  her  head  sink  slowly  on  Bent- 
Anat's  bosom,  threw  her  arms  round  her  neck,  and  wept 
like  a  child.  At  last  she  composed  herself  and  said  hum- 
bly : 

"  Take  me  to  school,  and  teach  me  to  be  useful." 

"  I  knew,"  said  the  princess,  smiling,  ''that  you  only 
needed  a  guiding  hand.  Believe  me,  you  will  soon  learn 
to  couple  content  and  longing.  But  now  hear  this  !  At 
present  go  home  to  your  mother,  for  it  is  late  ;  and  meet 
her  lovingly,  for  that  is  the  will  of  the  gods.  To-morrow 
morning  I  will  go  to  see  you,  and  beg  Katuti  to  let  you 
come  to  me  as  companion  in  the  place  of  my  lost  friend. 
The  day  after  to-morrow  you  will  come  to  me  in  the  pal- 
ace. You  can  live  in  the  rooms  of  my  departed  friena  and 
begin,  as  she  had  done,  to  help  me  in  my  work.  May 
these  hours  be  blest  to  you  !" 


230 


UARDA. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

At  the  time  of  this  conversation  the  leech  Nebsecht 
still  lingered  in  front  of  the  hovel  of  the  paraschites  and 
waited  with  growing  impatience  for  the  old  man  s  return 

At  first  he  trembled  for  him  ;  then  he  entirely  forgot 
the  danger  into  which  he  had  thrown  him  and  only 
hoped  for  the  fulfillment  of  his  desires,  and  for  wonder- 
ful revelations  through  his  investigations  of  the  human 

heFor  some  minutes  he  gave  himself  up  to  scientific 
considerations  ;  but  he  became  more  and  more  agitated  by 
anxiety  for  the  paraschites,  and  by  the  exciting  vicinity  ot 

UFor' hours  he  had  been  alone  with  her,  for  her  father 
and  grandmother  could  no  longer  stop  away  from  their 
occupations.  The  former  must  go  to  escort  prisoners  of 
war  to  Hermonthis,  and  the  old  woman,  since  her  grand- 
daughter had  deen  old  enough  to  undertake  the  small 
duties  of  the  household,  had  been  one  of  the  waihng- 
women,  who,  with  hair  all  disheveled,  accompanied  the 
corpse  on  its  way  to  the  grave,  weeping  and  lamenting, 
and  casting  Nile-mud  on  their  forehead  and  breast. 
Uarda  still  lay,  when  the  sun  was  sinking,  in  front  ot  the 

hUShe  looked  weary  and  pale.  Her  long  hair  had  come 
undone,  and  once  more  got  entangled  with  the  straw  ot 
her  humble  couch.  If  Nebsecht  went  near  her  to  feel  her 
pulse  or  to  speak  to  her  she  carefully  turned  her  face  from 

h' Nevertheless  when  the  sun  disappeared  behind  the  rocks 
he  bent  over  her  once  more,  and  said  : 

"It  is  growing  cool  ;  shall  I  carry  you  indoors? 

"Let  me  alone,"  she  said,  crossly.  "Iam  hot  keep 
further  away.  I  am  no  longer  ill,  and  could  go  indoors 
by  myself  if  I  wished ;  but  grandmother  will  be  here 
directly." 


UARDA. 


231 


Nebsecht  rose  and  sat  down  on  a  hen-coop  that  was  some 
paces  from  Uarda,  and  asked  stammering  : 
"Shall  I  go  further  off?"  , 
"  Do  as  you  please,"  she  answered, 
"You  are  not  kind,"  he  said,  sadly. 

"  You  sit  looking  at  me,"  said  Uarda.  "I  cannot  bear 
it ;  and  I  am  uneasy — for  grandfather  was  quite  different 
this  morning  from  his  usual  self,  and  talked  strangely  about 
dying,  and  about  the  great  price  that  was  asked  of  him  for 
curing  me.  Then  he  begged  me  rlever  to  forget  him,  and 
was  so  excited  and  so  strange.  He  is  so  long  away  ;  I 
wish  he  were  here  with  me." 

And  with  these  words  Uarda  began  to  cry  silently.  A 
nameless  anxiety  for  the  paraschites  seized  Nebsecht,  and 
it  struck  him  to  the  heart  that  he  had  demanded  a  human 
life  in  return  for  the  mere  fulfillment  of  a  duty.  He 
knew  the  law  well  enough,  and  knew  that  the  old  man 
would  be  compelled  without  respite  or  delay  to  empty  the 
cup  of  poison  if  he  were  found  guilty  of  the  theft  of  a 
human  heart. 

It  was  dark  ;  Uarda  ceased  weeping,  and  said  to  the 
surgeon  : 

' 'Can  it  be  possible  that  he  has  gone  into  the  city  to 
borrow  the  great  sum  of  money  that  thou — or  thy  temple — 
demandest  for  thy  medicine  ?  But  there  is  the  princess' 
golden  bracelet,  and  half  of  fathers  prize,  and  in  the 
chest  two  years'  wages  that  grandmother  has  earned  by 
wailing  lie  untouched.    Is  all  that  not  enough  ?  " 

The  girl's  last  question  was  full  of  resentment  and  re- 
proach, and  Nebsecht,  whose  perfect  sincerity  was  part  of 
his  very  being,  was  silent,  as  he  would  not  venture  to  say 
yes.  He  had  asked  more  in  return  for  his  help  than  gold 
or  silver.  Now  he  remembered  Pentaur's  warning,  and 
when  the  jackals  began  to  bark  he  took  up  the  fire- 
stick,*  and  lighted  some  fuel  that  was  lying  ready.-  Then 
he  asked  himself  what  Uarda's  fate  would  be  without  her 
grandparents,  and  a  strange  plan,  which  had  floated 
vaguely  before  him  for  some  hours,  began  now  to  take  a 
distinct  outline  and  intelligible  form.     He  determined  if 

*  The  hieroglyphic  sign  seems  to  me  to  represent  the  wooden  stick 
used  to  produce  fire  (as  among  some  savage  tribes)  by  rapid  friction  in 
a  hollow  piece  of  wood. 


UARDA. 


the  old  man  did  not  return  to  ask  the  kolchytes  or  em- 
balmers  to  admit  him  into  their  guild  *— and  for  the  sake 
of  his  adroitness  they  were  not  likely  to  refuse  him— then 
he  would  make  Uarda  his  wife,  and  live  apart  from  the 
world  for  her,  for  his  studies,  and  for  his  new  calling,  in 
which  he  hoped  to  learn  a  great  deal.  What  did  he  care 
for  comfort  or  proprieties,  for  recognition  from  his  fellow- 
men,  and  a  superior  position  !  .   '  ■    ,        , « 

He  could  hope  to  advance  more  quickly  along  the  new 
stony  path  than  on  the  old  beaten  track.  The  impulse  to 
communicate  his  acquired  knowledge  to  others  he  did  not 
feel  Knowledge  in  itself  amply  satisfied  him,  and  he 
thought  no  more  of  his  ties  to  the  House  of  Seti.  For 
three  whole  days  he  had  not  changed  his  garments,  no 
razor  had  touched  his  chin  or  his  scalp,  not  a  drop  of 
water  had  wetted  his  hands  or  his  feet.  He  felt  half  be- 
wildered and  almost  as  if  he  had  already  become  an  em- 
balmer  nay  even  a  paraschites,  one  of  the  most  despised  ot 
human'beings.  This  self-degradation  had  an  infinite  charm, 
for  it  brought  him  down  to  the  level  of  Uarda,  and  she, 
lyins  near  him,  sick  and  anxious,  with  her  disheveled  hair, 
exactly   suited   the  future   which  he   painted  to  him- 

Sd'f;Do  you  hear  nothing?  "  Uarda  asked,  suddenly. 

He  listened.  In  the  valley  there  was  a  barking  of  dogs, 
and  soon  the  paraschites  and  his  wife  appeared,  and,  at 
the  door  of  their  hut,  took  leave  of  old  Hekt,  who  had  met 
them  on  her  return  from  Thebes.  .  ,        ,  , 

<<  You  have  been  gone  a  long  time,"  cried  Uarda,  when 
her  grandmother  once  more  stood  before  her.  "I  have 
been  so  frightened/' 

"The  doctor  was  with  you,"  said  the  old  woman,  going 
into  the  house  to  prepare  their  simple  meal,  while  the 
paraschites  knelt  down  by  his  granddaughter,  and  caressed 
her  tenderly,  but  yet  with  respect,  as  tf  he  were  her  faith- 
ful servant  rather  than  her  blood  relation. 

Then  he  rose,  and  gave  to  Nebsecht,  who  was  trem- 
bling; with  excitement,  the  bag  of  coarse  linen  which 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  tied  to  him  by  a  narrow 
belt. 

*This  guild  still  existed  in  Roman  times,  and  we  have  much  informa- 
tion about  it  in  various  Greek  papyri. 


UARDA. 


233 


1 1  The  heart  is  in  that, "  he  whispered  to  the  leech  ;  i '  take 
it  out,  and  give  me  back  the  bag,  for  my  knife  is  in  it,  and 
I  want  it. 

Nebsecht  took  the  heart  out  of  the  covering  with  trem- 
bling hands,  and  laid  it  carefully  down.  Then  he  felt  in 
the  breast  of  his  dress,  and  going  up  to  the  paraschites  he 
whispered  : 

"  Here,  take  the  writing,  hang  it  round  your  neck,  and 
when  you  die  I  will  have  the  book  of  scripture  wrapped  up 
in  your  mummy-cloths  like  a  great  man.  But  that  is  not 
enough.  The  property  that  I  inherited  is  in  the  hands  of 
my  brother,  who  is  a  good  man  of  business,  and  I  have  not 
touched  the  interest  for  ten  years.  I  will  send  it  to  you, 
and  you  and  your  wife  shall  enjoy  an  old  age  free  from 
care. " 

The  paraschites  had  taken  the  little  bag  with  the  strip 
of  papyrus,  and  heard  the  leech  to  the  end.  Then  he 
turned  from  him,  saying  :  ' '  Keep  thy  money  ;  we  are  quits. 
That  is,  if  the  child  gets  well,"  he  added,  humbly. 

"She  is  already  half  cured,"  stammered  Nebsecht. 
"But  why  will  you — why  won't  you  accept  " 

"Because  till  to-day  I  have  never  begged  nor  bor- 
rowed," said  the  paraschites,  "  and  I  will  not  begin  in  my 
old  age.  Life  for  life.  But  what  I  have  done  this  day 
not  Rameses  with  all  his  treasure  could  repay." 

Nebsecht  looked  down,  and  knew  not  how  to  answer 
the  old  man. 

His  wife  now  came  out ;  she  set  a  bowl  of  lentils  that 
she  had  hastily  warmed  before  the  two  men,  with  radishes 
and  onions, *  then  she  helped  Uarda,  who  did  not  need  to 
be  carried,  into  the  house,  and  invited  Nebsecht  to  share 
their  meal.  He  accepted  her  invitation,  for  he  had  eaten 
nothing  since  the  previous  evening. 

When  the  old  woman  had  once  more  disappeared  in- 
doors, he  asked  the  paraschites  : 

"Whose  heart  is  it  that  you  have  brought  me,  and  how 
did  it  come  into  your  hands  ?  " 

*  Radishes,  onions  and  garlic  were  the  hors-d'oeuvre  of  an  Egyptian  " 
dinner.    Sixteen  hundred  talents  worth  were  consumed,  according  to 
Herodotus,  during  the  building  of  the  pyramid  of  Cheops,  equal  to 
£360,000. 


234 


UARDA. 


"Tell  me  first,'' said  the  other,  ' '  why  thou  hast  laid 
such  a  heavy  sin  upon  my  soul  ?  " 

"Because  I  want  to  investigate  the  structure  of  the 
human  heart,"  said  Nebsecht,  "so  that  when  I  meet  with 
diseased  hearts,  I  may  be  able  to  cure  them." 

The  paraschites  looked  for  a  long  time  at  the  ground  in 
silence  ;  then  he  said  : 

'  <  Art  thou  speaking  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  leech  with  convincing  emphasis. 
"I  am  glad,"  said  the  old  man,  "for  thou  gi  vest  help 
to  the  poor." 

"As  willingly  as  to  the  rich!"  exclaimed  Nebsecht. 
"But  tell  me  now  where  you  got  the  heart." 

"I  went  into  the  house  of  the  embalmer,"  said  the  old 
man,  after  he  had  selected  a  few  large  flints,  to  which, 
with  crafty  blows,  he  gave  the  shape  of  knives,  "  and 
there  I  found  three  bodies  in  which  I  had  to  make  the 
eight  prescribed  incisions  with  my  flint  knife,  When  the 
dead  lie  there  undressed  on  the  wooden  bench  they  all 
look  alike,  and  the  beggar  lies  as  still  as  the  favorite  son 
of  a  king.  But  I  knew  very  well  who  lay  before  me. 
The  strong  old  body  in  the  middle  of  the  table  was  the 
corpse  of  the  superior  of  the  temple  of  Hatasu,  and 
beyond  it,  close  by  each  other,  were  laid  a  stone-mason 
of  the  Necropolis,  and  a  poor  girl  from  the  strangers' 
quarter,  who  had  died  of  consumption— two  miserable 
wasted  figures.  I  had  known  the  prophet  well,  for  I  had 
met  him  a  hundred  times  in  his  gilt  litter,  and  we  always 
called  him  Rui,  the  rich,  I  did  my  duty  by  all  three,  I 
was  driven  away  with  the  usual  stoning,  and  then  I  ar- 
ranged the  inward  parts  of  the  bodies  with  my  mates. 
Those  of  the  prophet  are  to  be  preserved  later  m  an  ala- 
baster canopus,*  those  of  the  mason  and  the  girl  were  put 
back  in  their  bodies." 

"Then  I  went  up  to  the  three  bodies,  and  I  asked  my- 
self, to  which  I  should  do  such  a  wrong  as  to  rob  him  of 
his  heart.  I  turned  to  the  two  poor  ones,  and  I  hastily 
went  up  to  the  sinning  girl.  Then  I  heard  the  voice  of 
the  demon  that  cried  out  in  my  heart  :  '  The  girl  was  poor 

*This  vase  was  called  canopus  at  a  later  date.  There  were  four  of 
them  for  each  mummy. 


UARDA. 


23S 


and  despised  like  you  while  she  walked  on  Seb,*  perhaps 
she  may  find  compensation  and  peace  in  the  other  world 
if  you  do  not  mutilate  her  ; '  and  when  I  turned  to  the 
mason's  lean  corpse,  and  looked  at  his  hands,  which  were 
harder  and  rougher  than  my  own,  the  demon  whispered 
the  same.  Then  I  stood  before  the  strong,  stout  corpse 
of  the  prophet  Rui,  who  died  of  apoplexy,  and  I  remem- 
bered the  honor  and  the  riches  that  he  had  enjoyed  on  earth, 
and  that  he  at  least  for  a  time  had  known  happiness  and 
ease.  And  as  soon  as  I  was  alone  I  slipped  my  hand 
into  the  bag,  and  changed  the  sheep's  heart  for  his. 

"Perhaps  lam  doubly  guilty  for  playing  such  an  ac- 
cursed trick  with  the  heart  of  a  high-priest ;  but  Rui'sbody 
will  be  hung  round  with  a  hundred  amulets,  Scarabaei  f  will 
be  placed  over  his  heart,  and  holy  oil  and  sacred  sen- 
tences will  preserve  him  from  all  the  fiends  on  his  road  to 
Amenti  ;  while  no  one  will  devote  helping  talismans  to 
the  poor.  And  then  !  thou  hast  sworn,  in  that  world,  in 
the  hall  of  judgment,  to  take  my  guilt  on  thyself." 

Nebsecht  gave  the  old  man  his  hand, 

"That  I  will, "  said  he,  "and  I  should  have  chosen  as 
you  did.  Now  take  this  draught,  divide  it  into  four  parts, 
and  give  it  to  Uarda  for  four  evenings  following.  Begin 
this  evening,  and  by  the  day  after  to-morrow  I  think  she 
will  be  quite  well.  I  will  come  again  and  look  after  her. 
Now  go  to  rest,  and  let  me  stay  a  while  out  here  ;  before 
the  star  of  Isis  is  extinguished  I  will  be  gone,  for  they  have 
long  been  expecting  me  at  the  temple." 

When  the  paraschites  came  out  of  his  hut  the  next 
morning  Nebsecht  had  vanished ;  but  a  blood-stained 
cloth  that  lay  by  the  remains  of  the  fire  showed  the  old 
man  that  the  impatient  investigator  had  examined  the 
heart  of  the  high-priest  during  the  night,  and  perhaps  cut 
it  up. 

*  Seb  is  the  earth  ;  Plutarch  calls  Seb  Chronos.  He  is  often  spoken  of 
as  "  the  father  of  the  gods  "  on  the  monuments.  He  is  the  god  of  time, 
and  as  the  Egyptians  regarded  matter  as  eternal,  it  is  not  by  accident 
that  the  sign  which  represented  the  earth  was  also  used  for  eternity. 

t  Imitations  of  the  sacred  beetle  Scarabaeus,  made  of  various  materials, 
were  frequently  put  into  the  mummies  in  the  place  of  the  heart. 
Large  specimens  have  often  the  twenty-sixth,  thirtieth,  and  sixty-fourth 
chapters  of  the  Book  of  the  Dead  engraved  on  them,  as  they  treat  of  the 
heart. 


236 


UARDA. 


Terror  fell  upon  him,  and  in  agony  of  mind  he  threw 
himself  on  his  knees  as  the  golden  bark  of  the  Sun-god 
appeared  on  the  horizon,  and  prayed  fervently,  first  for 
Uarda,  and  then  for  the  salvation  of  his  imperiled  soul. 

He  rose  encouraged,  convinced  himself  that  his  grand- 
daughter was  progressing  toward  recovery,  bid  farewell  to 
his  wife,  took  his  flint  knife  and  his  bronze  hook,  and 
went  to  the  house  of  the  embalmer  to  follow  his  dismal 
calling. 

The  group  of  buildings  in  which  the  greater  number  of 
the  corpses  from  Thebes  went  through  the  processes  of 
mummifying  lay  on  the  bare  desert-land  at  some  distance 
from  his  hovel,  southward  from  the  House  of  Seti  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain.  They  occupied  by  themselves  a 
fairly  large  space,  enclosed  by  a  rough  wall  of  dried  mud- 
bricks. 

The  bodies  were  brought  in  through  the  great  gate 
toward  the  Nile,  and  delivered  to  the  kolchytes  ;  while  the 
priests,  paraschites,  and  taricheutes,  bearers  and  assistants 
who  here  did  their  daily  work,  as  well  as  innumerable 
water-carriers  who  came  up  from  the  Nile,  loaded  with 
skins,  fround  their  way  into  the  establishment  by  a  side 
gate. 

At  the  furthest  northern  end  stood  a  handsome  building 
of  wood,  with  a  separate  gate,  in  which  the  orders  of  the 
bereaved  were  taken,  and  often  indeed  those  of  men  still 
in  active  life,  who  thought  to  provide  betimes  for  their 
suitable  interment* 

The  crowd  in  this  house  was  considerable.  About  fifty 
men  and  women  were  moving  in  it  at  the  present  moment, 
all  of  different  ranks  ;  and  not  only  from  Thebes  but 
from  many  smaller  towns  of  upper  Egypt,  to  make  pur- 
chases or  to  give  commissions  to  the  functionaries  who 
were  busy  here. 

*  The  well-known  passages  in  Herodotus  and  in  Diodorus,  are  amply 
supported  by  the  manuscripts  of  the  ancient  Egyptians.  In  Maspero's 
able  work  on  a  papyrus  published  by  Mariette,  and  on  one  in  the  Lou- 
vre, we  have  a  mass  of  hitherto  unknown  details  on  the  ritual  for  em- 
balming. Czermak's  physiological  investigation  of  two  mummies  led  to 
very  interesting  results,  and  demonstrated  the  wonderful  preservation  of 
even  the  most  delicate  tissues.  His  researches  were  printed  in  "  Sitzungs- 
berichten  der  k.  k.  Akademie  der  Wissenschaften,"  Vienna,  1852.  The 
bilingual  papyrus  of  Rhine!  also  affords  valuable  information. 


UARDA* 


This  bazar  of  the  dead  was  well  supplied,  for  coffins  of 
every  form  stood  up  against  the  walls,  from  the  simplest 
chest  to  the  richly  gilt  and  painted  coffer,  in  form  re- 
sembling a  mummy.  On  wooden  shelves  lay  endless  rolls 
of  coarse  and  fine  linen,  in  which  the  limbs  of  the  mum- 
mies were  enveloped,  and  which  were  manufactured  by 
the  people  of  the  embalming  establishment  under  the 
protection  of  the  tutelar  goddesses  of  weavers,  Neith,  Isis 
and  Nephthys,  though  some  were  ordered  from  a  distance, 
particularly  from  Sais. 

There  was  free  choice  for  the  visitors  of  this  pattern- 
room  in  the  matter  of  mummy-cases  and  cloths,  as  well  as 
of  necklets,  scarabaei,  statuettes,  Uza-eyes,  girdles,  head- 
rests, triangles,  split-rings,  staves,  and  other  symbolic  ob- 
jects, which  were  attached  to  the  dead  and  sacred  amulets, 
or  bound  up  in  the  wrappings. 

There  were  innumerable  stamps  of  baked  clay,  which 
were  buried  in  the  earth  to  show  any  one  who  might  dis- 
pute the  limits,  how  far  each  grave  extended,  images  of 
the  gods,  which  were  laid  in  the  sand  to  purify  and  sanc- 
tify *  it — for  by  nature  it  belonged  to  Seth-Typhon — as  well 
as  the  figures  called  Schebti,  which  were  either  inclosed 
several  together  in  little  boxes,  or  laid  separately  in  the 
grave  ;  it  was  supposed  that  they  would  . help  the  dead  to 
till  the  fields  of  the  blessed  with  the  pick-ax,  plow,  and 
seed-bag  which  they  carried  on  their  shoulders. 

The  widow  and  the  steward  of  the  wealthy  superior  of 
the  temple  of  Hatasu,  and  with  them  a  priest  of  high  rank, 
were  in  eager  discussion  with  the  officials  of  the  embalm- 
ing-house, and  were  selecting  the  most  costly  of  the  pat- 
terns of  mummy-cases  which  were  offered  to  their  inspec- 
tion, the  finest  linen,  and  amulets  of  malachite,  and 
lapis-lazuli,  of  blood-stone,  carnelian  and  green  felspar, f 
as  well  as  the  most  elegant  alabaster  canopi  for  the  de- 
ceased ;  his  body  was  to  be  inclosed  first  in  a  sort  of  case  of 
papier-mache,  and  then  in  a  wooden  and  a  stone  coffin. 

*  The  purpose  of  the  amulets  is  in  most  cases  known,  as  almost  every 
one  has  a  chapter  of  the  book  of  the  dead  devoted  to  it.  The  little 
clay  cones  and  images  are  found  in  vast  numbers,  and  may  be  met  with 
in  every  museum. 

t  The  use  of  this  material  proves  the  extent  of  commerce  in  these 
early  times,  for  green  felspar  is  now  known  to  be  found  only  in  countries 
remote  from  Egypt. 


238 


UARDA. 


They  wrote  his  name  on  a  wax  tablet  which  was  ready  for 
the  purpose,  with  those  of  his  parents,  his  wife  and  children, 
and  all  his  titles  ;  they  ordered  what  verses  should  be  writ- 
ten on  his  coffin,  what  on  the  papyrus-rolls  to  be  inclosed 
in  it,  and  what  should  be  set  out  above  his  name.  With 
regard  to  the  inscription  on  the  walls  of  the  tomb,  the 
pedestal  of  the  statue  to  be  placed  there,  and  the  face  of  the 
stele  to  be  erected  in  it,  yet  further  particulars  would  be 
given  ;  a  priest  of  the  temple  of  Seti  was  charged  to  write 
them,  and  to  draw  up  a  catalogue  of  the  rich  offerings 
of  the  survivors.  The  last  could  be  done  later,  when, 
after  the  division  of  the  property,  the  amount  of  the  for- 
tune he  had  left  could  be  ascertained.  The  mere  mummi- 
fying of  the  body  with  the  finest  oils  and  essences,  cloths, 
amulets,  and  cases,  would  cost  a  talent  of  silver,  without 
the  stone  sarcophagus. 

The  widow  wore  a  long  mourning-robe,  her  forehead 
was  lightly  daubed  with  Nile-mud,  and  in  the  midst  of  her 
chaffering  with  the  functionaries  of  the  embalming-house, 
whose  prices  she  complained  of  as  enormous  and  rapa- 
cious, from  time  to  time  she  broke  out  into  a  loud  wail 
of  grief — as  the  occasion  demanded. 

More  modest  citizens  finished  their  commissions  sooner, 
though  it  was  not  unusual  for  the  income  of  a  whole  year 
to  be  sacrificed  for  the  embalming  of  the  head  of  a  house- 
hold— the  father  or  the  mother  of  a  family.  The  mum- 
mifying of  the  poor  was  cheap,  and  that  of  the  poorest  had 
to  be  provided  by  the  kolchytes  as  a  tribute  to  the  king, 
to  whom  also  they  were  obliged  to  pay  a  tax  in  linen 
from  their  looms. 

This  place  of  business  was  carefully  separated  from  the 
rest  of  the  establishment,  which  none  but  those  who  were 
engaged  in  the  processes  carried  on  there  were  on  any 
account  permitted  to  enter.  The  kolchytes  formed  a 
closely-limited  guild,  at  the  head  of  which  stood  a  certain 
number  of  priests,  and  from  among  them  the  masters  of 
the  many  thousand  members  were  chosen.  This  guild 
was  highly  respected,  even  the  taricheutes,  who  were 
entrusted  with  the  actual  work  of  embalming,  could  ven- 
ture to  mix  with  the  other  citizens,  although  in  Thebes  itself 
people  always  avoided  them  with  a  certain  horror  ;  only 
the  paraschites,  whose  duty  it  was  to  open  the  body,  bore 


UARDA. 


239 


the  whole  curse  of  uncleanness.  Certainly  the  place  where 
these  people  fulfilled  their* office  was  dismal  enough. 

The  stone  chamber  in  which  the  bodies  were  opened, 
and  the  halls  in  which  they  were  prepared  with  salt,  had 
adjoining  them  a  variety  of  laboratories  and  depositories 
for  drugs  and  preparations  of  every  description. 

In  a  courtyard,  protected  from  the  rays  of  the  sun  only 
by  an  awning,  was  a  large  walled  basin,  containing  a 
solution  of  natron,  in  which  the  bodies  were  salted,  and 
they  were  then  dried  in  a  stone  vault,  artificially  supplied 
with  hot  air. 

The  little  wooden  houses  of  the  weavers,  as  well  as  the 
workshops  of  the  case-joiners  and  decorators,  stood  in  num- 
bers round  the  pattern-room  ;  but  the  farthest  off,  and 
much  the  largest  of  the  buildings  of  the  establishment, 
was  a  very  long  low  structure,  solidly  built  of  stone  and 
well  roofed  in,  where  the  prepared  bodies  were  enveloped 
in  their  cerements,  tricked  out  in  amulets,  and  made 
ready  for  their  journey  to  the  next  world.  What  took 
place  in  this  building — into  which  the  laity  were  admitted, 
but  never  for  more  than  a  few  minutes — was  to  the  last 
degree  mysterious,  for  here  the  gods  themselves  appeared 
to  be  engaged  with  the  mortal  bodies. 

Out  of  the  windows  which  opened  on  the  street,  recita- 
tions, hymns,  and  lamentations  sounded  night  and  day. 
The  priests  who  fulfilled  their  office  here  wore  masks  like 
the  divinities  of  the  under-world.*  Many  were  the  rep- 
resentatives of  Anubis,  with  the  jackal-head,  assisted  by 
boys  with  masks  of  the  so-called  child-Horus.  At  the 
head  of  each  mummy  stood  or  squatted  a  wailing  woman 
with  the  emblems  of  Nephthys,  and  one  at  its  feet  with 
those  of  Isis. 

Every  separate  limb  of  tfce  deceased  was  dedicated  to  a 
particular  divinity  by  the  aid  of  holy  oils,  charms,  and 
sentences  ;  a  specially  prepared  cloth  was  wrapped  round 
each  muscle,  every  drug  and  every  bandage  owed  its  origin 
to  some  divinity,  and  the  confusion  of  sounds,  of  dis- 

*  There  are  many  indications  of  this  in  the  tomb  paintings,  and  a  papyrus 
(III.  of  the  museum  at  Bulaq)  confirms  the  idea.  The  art  of  molding 
masks  in  a  paste  resembling  papier-mache  was  early  known  to  the  Egyp- 
tians, and  such  a  maskof  the  dead  is  not  unfrequently  found  at  the  head 
of  mummy  cases. 


UARDA. 


guised  figures,  and  of  various  perfumes,  had  a  stupefy- 
ing effect  on  those  who  visited  this  chamber.  It  need 
not  be  said  that  the  whole  embalming  establishment  and 
its  neighborhood  was  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  powerful 
resinous  fumes,  of  sweet  attar,  of  lasting  musk,  and  of 
pungent  spices. 

When  the  wind  blew  from  the  west  it  was  wafted 
across  the  Nile  to  Thebes,  and  this  was  regarded  as  an 
evil  omen,  for  from  the  south-west  comes  the  wind  that 
enfeebles  the  energy  of  men— the  fatal  simoom. 

In  the  court  of  the  pattern-house  stood  several  groups 
of  citizens  from  Thebes,  gathered  round  different  indi- 
viduals, to  whom  they  were  expressing  their  sympathy. 
A  new-comer,  the  superintendent  of  the  victims  of  the 
temple  of  Amon,  who  seemed  to  be  known  to  many  and 
was  greeted  with  respect,  announced,  even  before  he 
went  to  condole  with  Rui's  widow,  in  a  tone  full  of  hor- 
ror at  what  had  happened,  that  an  omen,  significant  of  the 
greatest  misfortune,  had  occurred  in  Thebes,  in  a  spot  no 
less  sacred  than  the  very  temple  of  Amon  himself. 

Many  inquisitive  listeners  stood  round  him  while  he  re- 
lated that  the  regent  Ani,  in  his  joy  at  the  victory  of 
his  troops  in  Ethiopia,  had  distributed  wine  with  a  lavish 
hand  to  the  garrison  of  Thebes,  and  also  to  the  watchmen 
of  the  temple  of  Amon,  and  that,  while  the  people 
were  carousing,  wolves*  had  broken  into  the  stable 
of  the  sacred  rams,  f  Some  were  killed,  but  the  noblest 
ram,  which  Rameses  himself  had  sent  as  a  gift  from  Mendes 
when  he  set  out  for  the  war— the  magnificent  beast  which 
Amon  had  chosen  as  the  tenement  of  his  spirit,  J  was 

*  Wolves  have  now  disappeared  from  Egypt';  they  were  sacred  animals, 
and  were  worshiped  and  buried  at  Lykopolis,  the  present  Siut,  where 
mummies  of  wolves  have  been  founck  Herodotus  says  that  if  a  wolf 
was  found  dead  he  was  buried,  and  Elian  states  that  the  herb  Lykoktonon, 
which  was  poisonous  to  wolves,  might  on  no  account  be  brought  into  the 
city,  where  they  were  held  sacred. 

t  There  was  also  a  bull  which  was  sacred  to  Amon. 

I  The  ram  was  especially  worshiped  at  Mendes.  The  ruins  of  this  city 
have  been  found  at  a  short  distance  from  Mansura  in  the  Delta,  and 
Brugsch  has  interpreted  some  inscriptions  which  were  found  there,  and 
which  throw  new  light  on  the  worship  of  the  ram,  and  on  the  accounts 
of  it  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us.  The  ram  is  called  "  Ba;" 
which  is  also  the  name  for  the  soul,  and  the  sacred  rams  were  supposed 
to  be  the  living  embodiment  of  the  soul  of  Ra. 


UARDA. 


241 


found,  torn  in  pieces,  by  the  soldiers,  who  immediately 
terrified  the  whole  city  with  the  news.  At  the  same  hour 
news  had  come  from  Memphis  that  the  sacred  bull  Apis 
was  dead. 

All  the  people  who  had  collected  round  the  priest  broke 
out  into  a  far-sounding  cry  of  woe,  in  which  he  himself 
and  Rui's  widow  vehemently  joined. 

The  buyers  and  functionaries  rushed  out  of  the  pattern- 
room,  and  from  the  mummy-house  the  taricheutes,  paras- 
chites  and  assistants  ;  the  weavers  left  their  looms,  and  all, 
as  soon  as  they  had  learned  what  had  happened,  took  part 
in  the  lamentations,  howling  and  wailing,  tearing  their 
hair  and  covering  their  faces  with  dust. 

The  noise  was  loud  and  distracting,  and  when  its  violence 
diminished,  and  the  work-people  went  back  to  their  busi- 
ness, the  east  wind  brought  the  echo  of  the  cries  of  the 
dwellers  in  the  Necropolis,  perhaps,  too,  those  of  the  citi- 
zens of  Thebes  itself. 

• '  Bad  news, "  said  the  inspector  of  the  victims,  ' f  cannot 
fail  to  reach  us  soon  from  the  king  and  the  army  ;  he  will 
regret  the  death  of  the  ram  which  he  called  by  his  name 
more  than  that  of  Apis.    It  is  a  bad — a  very  bad  omen." 

"  My  lost  husband  Rui,  who  rests  in  Osiris,  foresaw  it 
all,"  said  the  widow.  "  If  only  I  dared  to  speak  I  could 
tell  a  good  deal  that  many  might  find  unpleasant." 

The  inspector  of  sacrifices  smiled,  for  he  knew  that  the 
late  superior  of  the  temple  of  Hatasu  had  been  an  adherent 
of  the  old  royal  family,  and  he  replied  : 

"The  Sun  of  Rameses  may  be  for  a  time  covered  with 
clouds,  but  neither  those  who  fear  it  nor  those  who  desire 
it  will  live  to  see  its  setting." 

The  priest  coldly  saluted  the  lady,  and  went  into  the 
house  of  a  weaver  in  which  he  had  business,  and  the  widow 
got  into  her  litter  which  was  waiting  at  the  gate. 

The  old  paraschites  Pinem  had  joined  with  his  fellows  in 
the  lamentation  for  the  sacred  beasts,  and  was  now  sit- 
ting on  the  hard  pavement  of  the  dissecting-room  to  eat 
his  morsel  of  food — for  it  was  noon. 

The  stone  room  in  which  he  was  eating  his  meal  was 
badly  lighted  ;  the  daylight  came  through  a  small  opening 
in  the  roof,  over  which  the  sun  stood  perpendicularly,  and 
a  shaft  of  bright  rays,  in  which  danced  the  whirling  motes, 
16 


242 


UARDA. 


shot  down  through  the  twilight  on  to  the  stone  pavement. 
Mummy-cases  leaned  against  all  the  walls,  and  on  smooth 
polished  slabs  lay  bodies  covered  with  coarse  cloths.  A  rat 
scuttered  now  and  then  across  the  floor,  and  from  the  wide 
cracks  between  the  stones  sluggish  scorpions  crawled  out. 

The  old  paraschites  was  long  since  blunted  to  the  horror 
which  pervaded  this  locality.  He  had  spread  a  coarse 
napkin,  and  carefully  laid  on  it  the  provisions  which  his 
wife  had  put  into  his  satchel ;  first  half  a  cake  of  bread, 
then  a  little  salt,  and  finally  a  radish. 

But  the  bag  was  not  yet  empty. 

He  put  his  hand  in  and  found  a  piece  of  meat  wrapped 
up  in  two  cabbage-leaves.  Old  Hekt  had  brought  a  leg  of 
a  gazelle  from  Thebes  for  Uarda,  and  he  now  saw  that  the 
woman  had  put  a  piece  of  it  into  his  little  sack  for  his  re- 
freshment. He  looked  at  the  gift  with  emotion,  but  he 
did  not  A^enture  to  touch  it,  for  he  felt  as  if  in  doing  so  he 
should  be. robbing  the  sick  girl.  While  he  ate  the  bread 
and  the  radish  he  contemplated  the  piece  of  meat  as  if  it 
were  some  costly  jewel,  and  when  a  fly  dared  to  settle  on  it 
he  drove  it  off  indignantly. 

At  last  he  tasted  the  meat,  and  thought  of  many  former 
noonday  meals,  and  how  he  had  often  found  a  flower  in 
the  satchel,  that  Uarda  had  placed  there  to  please  him, 
with  the  bread.  His  kind  old  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and 
his  whole  heart  swelled  with  gratitude  and  love.  He 
looked  up,  and  his  glance  fell  on  the  table,  and  he  asked 
himself  how  he  would  have  felt  if  instead  of  the  old  priest 
robbed  of  his  heart,  the  sunshine  of  his  old  age,  his  grand- 
daughter, were  lying  their  motionless.  A  cold  shiver  ran 
over  him,  and  he  felt  that  his  own  heart  would  not  have 
been  too  great  a  price  to  pay  for  her  recovery.  And  yet  ! 
In  the  course  of  his  long  life  he  had  experienced  so  much 
suffering  and  wrong,  that  he  could  not  imagine  any  hope 
of  a  better  lot  in  the  other  world.  Then  he  drew  out  the 
bond  Nebsecht  had  given  him,  held  it  up  with  both  hands, 
as. if  to  show  it  to  the  Immortals,  an/1  particularly  to  the 
judges  in  the  hall  of  truth  and  judgment,  that  they  might 
not  reckon  with  him  for  the  crime  he  had  committed — no* 
for  himself  but  for  another — and  that  they  might  not  re- 
fuse to  justify  Rui,  whom  he  had  robbed  of  his  heart. 

While  he  thus  lifted  his  soul  in  devotion,  matters  were 


UARDA. 


243 


getting  warm  outside  the  dissecting-room.  He  thought  he 
heard  his  name  spoken,  and  scarcely  had  he  raised  his 
head  to  listen  when  a  taricheutes  came  in  and  desired  him 
to  follow  him. 

In  front  of  the  rooms,  filled  with  resinous  odors  and  in- 
cense, in  which  the  actual  process  of  embalming  was  car- 
ried on,  a  number  of  taricheutes  were  standing  and  look- 
ing at  an  object  in  an  alabaster  bowl.  The  knees  of  the 
old  man  knocked  together  as  he  recognized  the  heart  of 
the  beast  which  he  had  substituted  for  that  of  the  prophet. 

The  chief  of  the  taricheutes  asked  him  whether  he  had 
opened  the  body  of  the  dead  priest. 

Pinem  stammered  out  "  Yes." 

Whether  this  was  his  heart  ? 

The  old  man  nodded  affirmatively. 

The  taricheutes  looked  at  each  other,  whispered  to- 
gether ;  then  one  of  them  went  away,  and  returned  soon 
with  the  inspector  of  victims  from  the  temple  of  Anion, 
whom  he  had  found  in  the  house  of  the  weaver,  and  the 
chief  of  the  kolchytes. 

"Show  me  the  heart,"  said  the  superintendent  of  the 
sacrifice,  as  he  approached  the  vase.  "I  can  decide  in 
the  dark  if  you  have  seen  rightly.  I  examine  a  hundred 
animals  every  day.  Give  it  here  !  By  all  the  Gods  of 
Heaven  and  Hell  that  is  the  heart  of  a  ram  !  " 

"It  was  found  in  the  breast  of  Rui,"  said  one  of  the 
taricheutes,  decisively.  "It  was  opened  yesterday  in 
the  presence  of  us  all  by  this  old  paraschites." 

"  It  is  extraordinary,"  said  the  priest  of  Anion.  "  And 
incredible.  But  perhaps  an  exchange  was  effected.  Did 
you  slaughter  any  victims  here,  yesterday  or  " 

"We  are  purifying  ourselves/'  the  chief  of  the  kol- 
chytes interrupted,  "for  the  great  festival  of  the  Valley,  and 
for  ten  days  no  beasts  can  have  been  killed  here  for  food  ; 
besides,  the  stables  and  slaughter-houses  are  a  long  way 
from  this,  on  the  other  side  of  the  linen-factories/' 

"It  is  strange!"  replied  the  priest.  "Preserve  this 
heart  carefully,  kolchytes;  or,  better  still,  let  it  be 'in- 
closed in  a  case.  We  will  take  it  over  to  the  chief  prophet 
of  Amon.   It  would  seem  that  some  miracle  has  happened. " 

"The  heart  belongs  to  the  Necropolis,"  answered  the 
chief  kolchytes,  "  and  it  would  therefore  be  more  fitting  if 


244 


UARDA. 


we  took  it  to  the  chief  priest  of  the  temple  of  Seti, 
Ameni. " 

''You  command  here  !  "  said  the  other.     "  Let  us  go." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  priest  of  Amon  and  the  chief  of 
the  kolchytes  were  being  carried  toward  the  valley  in 
their  litters.  A  taricheute  followed  them,  who  sat  on  a 
seat  between  two  asses,  and  carefully  carried  a  casket  of 
ivory,  in  which  reposed  the  ram's  heart. 

The  old  paraschites  watched  the  priests  disappear  be- 
hind the  tamarisk  bushes.  He  longed  to  run  after  them, 
and  tell  them  everything. 

His  conscience  quaked  with  self-reproach,  and  if  his 
slugglish  intelligence  did  not  enable  him  to  take  in  at  a 
glance  all  the  results  that  his  deed  might  entail,  he  still 
could  guess  that  he  had  sown  a  seed  whence  deceit  of 
every  kind  must  grow.  He  felt  as  if  he  had  fallen  alto- 
gether into  sin  and  falsehood^  and  that  the  goddess  of 
truth,  whom  he  had  all  his  life  honestly  served,  had  re- 
proachfully turned  her  back  on  him.  After  what  had 
happened  never  could  he  hope  to  be  pronounced  a  "  truth- 
speaker,"  by  the  judges  of  the  dead.  Lost,  thrown  away, 
was  the  aim  and  end  of  a  long  life,  rich  in  self-denial  and 
prayer  !  His  soul  shed  tears  of  blood,  a  wild  sighing 
sounded  in  his  ears,  which  saddened  his  spirit,  and  when 
he  went  back  to  his  work  again,  and  wanted  to  remove 
the  soles  of  the  feet*  from  a  body,  his  hand  trembled  so 
that  he  could  not  hold  the  knife. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  news  of  the  end  of  the  sacred  ram  of  Amon,  and  of 
the  death  of  the  bull  Apis  of  Memphis,  had  reached  the 
House  of  Seti,  and  was  received  there  with  loud  lamenta- 

*  One  of  the  mummies  of  Prague,  which  were  dissected  by  Czermak, 
had  the  soles  of  the  feet  removed  and  laid  on  the  breast.  We  learn 
from  Chapter  125,  of  the  Book  of  the  Dead,  that  this  was  done  that  the 
sacred  floor  of  the  hall  of  judgment  might  not  be  defiled  when  the  dead 
were  summoned  before  Osiris. 


UARDA. 


245 


tion,  in  which  all  its  inhabitants  joined,  from  the  chief 
haruspex  down  to  the  smallest  boy  in  the  school-courts. 

The  superior  of  the  institution,  Ameni,  had  been  for 
three  days  in  Thebes,  and  was  expected  to  return  to-day. 
His  arrival  was  looked  for  with  anxiety  and  excitement  by 
many.  The  chief  of  the  haruspices  was  eager  for  it  that 
he  might  hand  over  the  imprisoned  scholars  to  condign 
punishment,  and  complain  to  him  of  Pentaur  and  Bent- 
Anat ;  the  initiated  knew  that  important  transactions  must 
have  been  concluded  on  the  further  side  of  the  Nile  ;  and 
the  rebellious  disciples  knew  that  now  stern  justice  would 
be  dealt  to  them. 

The  insurrectionary  troop  were  locked  into  an  open 
court  upon  bread  and  water,  and  as  the  usual  room  of  de- 
tention of  the  establishment  was  too  small  for  them  all, 
for  two  nights  they  had  had  to  sleep  in  a  loft  on  thin  straw 
mats.  The  young  spirits  were  excited  to  the  highest  pitch, 
but  each  expressed  his  feelings  in  quite  a  different  manner. 

Bent-Anat's  brother,  Rameses'  son,  Rameri,  had  experi- 
enced the  same  treatment  as  his  fellows,  whom  yesterday 
he  had  led  into  every  sort  of  mischief,  with  even  more 
audacity  than  usual,  but  to-day  he  hung  his  head. 

In  a  corner  of  the  court  sat  Anana,  Pentaur's  favorite 
scholar,  hiding  his  face  in  his  hands,  which  rested  on  his 
knees.  Rameri  went  up  to  him,  touched  his  shoulder, 
and  said  : 

"We  have  played  the  game,  and  now  must  bear  the 
consequences  for  good  and  for  evil.  Are  you  not  ashamed 
of  yourself,  old  boy  ?  Your  eyes  are  wet  and  the  drops 
here  on  your  hands  have  not  fallen  from  the  clouds.  You 
who  are  seventeen,  and  in  a  few  months  will  be  a  scribe 
and  a  grown  man  !  " 

Anana  looked  at  the  prince,  dried  his  eyes  quickly,  and 
said  : 

"I  was  the  ringleader.  Ameni  will  turn  me  out  of  the 
place,  and  I  must  return  disgraced  to  my  poor  mother,  who 
has  no  one  in  the  world  but  me." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  said  Rameri,  kindly.  "  It  was  striking 
at  random  !  If  only  our  attempt  had  done  Pentaur  any 
good  !  " 

"We  have  done  him  harm,  on  the  contrary,"  said 
Anana,  vehemently,  "  and  have  behaved  like  fools  !  " 


246 


UARDA. 


Rameri  nodded  in  full  assent,  looked  thoughtful  for  a 
moment,  and  then  said  : 

''Do  you  know,  Anana,  that  you  were  not  the  ring- 
leader? The  trick  was  planned  in  this  crazy  brain  ;  I 
take  the  whole  blame  on  my  own  shoulders.  I  am  the 
son  of  Rameses,  and  Ameni  will  be  less  hard  on  me  than 
on  you." 

"  He  will  examine  us  all,"  replied  Anana,  "  and  I  will 
be  punished  sooner  than  tell  a  lie." 
Rameri  colored. 

"Have  you  ever  known  my  tongue  sin  against  the 
lovely  daughter  of  Ra  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  ' '  But  look  here  ! 
did  I  stir  up  Antef,  Hapi,  Sent  and  all  the  others  or  no  ? 
Who  but  I  advised  you  to  find  out  Pentaur?  Did  I 
threaten  to  beg  my  father  to  take  me  from  the  school  of 
Seti  or  not?  I  was  the  instigator  of  the  mischief,  I  pulled 
the  wires,  and  if  we  are  questioned  let  me  speak  first. 
Not  one  of  you  is  to  mention  Anana's  name  ;  do  you  hear? 
not  one  of  you,  and  if  they  flog  us  or  deprive  us  of  our 
food  we  all  stick  to  this,  that  I  was  guilty  of  all  the 
mischief. " 

"You  are  a  brave  fellow  !  "  said  the  son  of  the  chief 
priest  of  Amon,  shaking  his  right  hand,  while  Anana  held 
his  left. 

The  prince  freed  himself  laughing  from  their  grasp. 

"Now  the  old  man  may  come  home,"  he  exclaimed, 
"we  are  ready  for  him.  But  all  the  same  I  will  ask  my 
father  to  send  me  to  Chennu,  as  sure  as  my  name  is 
Rameri,  if  they  do  not  recall  Pentaur." 

"He  treated  us  like  school-boys  !  "  said  the  eldest  of  the 
young  malefactors. 

"And  with  reason,"  replied  Rameri.  "I  respect  him 
all  the  more  for  it.  You  all  think  I  am  a  careless  dog — 
but  I  have  my  own  ideas,  and  I  will  speak  the  words  of 
w7isdom." 

With  these  words  he  looked  round  on  his  companions 
with  comical  gravity,  and  continued — imitating  Ameni's 
manner  : 

"  Great  men  are  distinguished  from  little  men  by  this — 
they  scorn  and  contemn  all  which  flatters  their  vanity,  or 
seems  to  them  for  a  moment  desirable,  or  even  useful,  if  it 
is  not  compatible  with  the  laws  which  they  recognize,  or 


UARDA. 


247 


conducive  to  some  great  end  which  they  have  set  before 
them  ;  even  though  that  end  may  not  be  reached  till 
after  their  death. 

" 1  have  learned  this,  partly  from  my  father,  but  partly 
I  have  thought  it  out  for  myself;  and  now  I  ask  you, 
could  Pentaur  as  'a  great  man'  have  dealt  with  us 
better?" 

"  You  have  put  into  words  exactly  what  I  myself  have 
thought  ever  since  yesterday/'  cried  Anana.  "We  have 
behaved  like  babies,  and  instead  of  carrying  our  point  we 
have  brought  ourselves  and  Pentaur  into  disgrace." 

The  rattle  of  an  approaching  chariot  was  now  audible, 
and  Rameri  exclaimed,  interrupting  Anana  : 

"It  is  he.  Courage,  boys  !  I  am  the  guilty  one.  He 
will  not  dare  to  have  me  thrashed— but  he  will  stab  me 
with  looks  !  " 

Ameni  descended  quickly  from  his  chariot.  The  gate- 
keeper informed  him  that  the  chief  of  the  kolchytes,  and 
the  inspector  of  victims  from  the  temple  of  Anion,  desired 
to  speak  with  him. 

"They  must  wait,"  said  the  prophet,  shortly.  "Show 
them  meanwhile  into  the  garden  pavilion.  Where  is  the 
chief  haruspex  ? " 

He  had  hardly  spoken  when  the  vigorous  old  man  for 
whom  he  was  inquiring  hurried  to  meet  him,  to  make  him 
acquainted  with  all  that  had  occurred  in  his  absence. 
But  the  high-priest  had  already  heard  in  Thebes  all  that 
his  colleague  was  anxious  to  tell  him. 

When  Ameni  was  absent  from  the  House  of  Seti,  he 
caused  accurate  information  to  be  brought  to  him  every 
morning  of  what  had  taken  place  there. 

Now  when  the  old  man  began  his  story  he  interrupted 
him. 

"  I  know  everything,"  he  said.  "The  disciples  cling  to 
Pentaur,  and  have  committed  a  folly  for  his  sake,  and  you 
met  the  Princess  Bent-Anat  with  him  in  the  temple  of 
Hatasu,  to  which  he  had  admitted  a  woman  of  low  rank 
before  she  had  been  purified.  These  are  grave  matters, 
and  must  be  seriously  considered,  but  not  to-day.  Make 
yourself  easy  ;  Pentaur  will  not  escape  punishment ;  but 
for  to-day  we  must  recall  him  to  this  temple,  for  we  ha  \  o 
need  of  him  to-morrow  for  the  solemnity  of  the  feast  ci 


248 


UARDA. 


the  Valley.  No  one  shall  meet  him  as  an  enemy  till  he  is 
condemned  ;  I  desire  this  of  you,  and  charge  you  to 
repeat  it  to  the  others." 

The  haruspex  endeavored  to  represent  to  his  superior 
What  a  scandal  would  arise  from  this  untimely  clemency  ; 
but  Ameni  did  not  allow  him  to  talk,  he  demanded  his 
ring  back,  called  a  young  priest,  delivered  the  precious 
signet  into  his  charge,  and  desired  him  to  get  into  his 
chariot  that  was  waiting  at  the  door,  and  carry  to  Pentaur 
the  command,  in  his  name,  to  return  to  the  temple  of  Seti. 

The  haruspex  submitted,  though  deeply  vexed,  and 
asked  whether  the  guilty  boys  were  also  to  go  unpunished. 

"  No  more  than  Pentaur,"  answered  Ameni.  "  But  can 
you  call  this  school-boy's  trick  guilt  ?  Leave  the  children 
to  their  fun,  and  their  imprudence.  The  educator  is  the 
destroyer,  if  he  always  and  only  keeps  his  eyes  open,  and 
cannot  close  them  at  the  right  moment.  Before  life  de- 
mands of  us  the  exercise  of  serious  duties  we  have  a  mighty 
over-abundance  of  vigor  at  our  disposal ;  the  child  exhausts 
it  in  play,  and  the  boy  in  building  wonder-castles  with 
the  hammer  and  chisel  of  his  fancy,  in  inventing  follies. 
You  shake  your  head,  Septah  !  but  I  tell  you,  the  auda- 
cious tricks  of  the  boy  are  the  forerunners  of  the  deeds  of 
the  man.  I  shall  let  one  only  of  the  boys  suffer  for  what 
is  past,  and  I  should  let  him  even  go  unpunished  if  I 
had  not  other  pressing  reasons  for  keeping  him  away  from 
our  festival." 

The  haruspex  did  not  contradict  his  chief ;  for  he  knew 
that  when  Ameni's  eyes  flashed  so  suddenly,  and  his 
demeanor,  usually  so  measured,  was  as  restless  as  at 
present,  something  serious  was  brewing. 

The  high-priest  understood  what  was  passing  in  Septah  s 
mind. 

"  You  do  not  understand  me  now, "said  he.  "  But  this 
evening,  at  the  meeting  of  the  initiated,  you  shall  know 
all.  Great  events  are  stirring.  The  brethren  in  the  tem- 
ple of  Amon,  on  the  other  shore,  have  fallen  off  from 
what  must  always  be  the  holiest  to  us  white-robed  priests, 
and  will  stand  in  our  way  when  the  time  for  action  is  ar- 
rived. At  the  feast  of  the  Valley  wc  shall  stand  in  com- 
petition with  the  brethren  from  Thebes.  All  Thebes  will 
be  present  at  the  solemn  service,  and  it  must  be  proved 


UARDA.  249 

which  knows  how  to  serve  the  Divinity  most  worthily, 
they  or  we.  We  must  avail  ourselves  of  all  our  resources, 
and  Pentaur  we  certainly  cannot  do  without.  He  must 
fill  the  function  of  Cherheb  *  for  to-morrow  only  ;  the  day 
after  he  must  be  brought  to  judgment.  Among  the  rebel- 
lious boys  are  our  best  singers,  and  particularly  young 
Anana,  who  leads  the  voices  of  the  choir-boys  ;  1  will 
examine  the  silly  fellows  at  once.  Ramen— Rameses 
son—was  among  the  young  miscreants  ? 

"He  seems  to  have  been  the  ringleader,  answered 

SeAmeni  looked  at  the  old  man  with  a  significant  smile, 

and  said :  . 

<  <  The  royal  family  are  covering  themselves  with  honor 
His  eldest  daughter  must  be  kept  far  from  the  temple  and 
the  gathering  of  the  pious,  as  being  unclean  and  refractory, 
and  we  shall  be  obliged  to  expel  his  son  from  our  college. 
You  look  horrified,  but  I  say  to  you  that  the  time  for 
action  is  come.  More  of  this,  this  evening.  Now,  one 
question  :  Has  the  news  of  the  death  of  the  ram  of  Amon 
reached  you  ?  Yes  ?  Rameses  himself  presented  him  to 
the  god,  and  they  gave  it  his  name.    A  bad  omen/'  > 

-And  Apis  too  is  dead  !  "  The  haruspex  threw  up  his 
arms  in  lamentation. 

"  His  divine  spirit  has  returned  to  God,   replied  Ameni. 

<  <  Now  we  have  much  to  do.  Before  all  things  we  must 
prove  ourselves  equal  to  those  in  Thebes  over  there,  and 
win  the  people  over  to  our  side.  The  panegyric  prepared 
by  us  for  to-morrow  must  offer  some  great  novelty.  The 
Regent  Ani  grants  us  a  rich  contribution,  and  " 

-And,"  interrupted  Septah,  4 'our  thaumaturgists  un- 
derstand things  very  differently  from  those  of  the  House  of 
Amon,  who  feast  while  we  practice." 

Ameni  nodded  assent,  and  said  with  a  smile  :  ' '  Also  we 
are  more  indispensable  than  they  to  the  people.  They 
show  them  the  path  of  life,  but  we  smooth  the  way  of 
death.  It  is  easier  to  find  the  way  without  a  guide  in  the 
daylight  than  in  the  dark.  We  are  more  than  a  match  for 
the  priests  of  Amon." 

*' Cherheb  was  the  title  of  the  speaker  or  reciter  at  a  festival.  We 
cannot  agree  with  those  who  confuse  this  personage  with  the  cniel  ot 
the  Kolchytes. 


U  ARID  A. 


"  So  long  as  you  are  our  leader,  certainly,"  cried  the 
haruspex. 

"And  so  long  as  the  temple  has  no  lack  of  men  of  your 
temper  !  "  added  Ameni,  half  to  Septah,  and  half  to  the 
second  prophet  of  the  temple,  sturdy  old  Gagabu,  who  had 
come  into  the  room. 

Both  accompanied  him  into  the  garden,  where  the  two 
priests  were  awaiting  him  with  the  miraculous  heart. 

Ameni  greeted  the  priest  from  the  temple  of  Amon  with 
dignified  friendliness,  the  head  kolchytes  with  distant  re- 
serve, listened  to  their  story,  looked  at  the  heart  which  lay 
in  the  box,  with  Septah  and  Gagabu,  touched  it  delicately 
with  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  carefully  examining  the  object, 
which  diffused  a  strong  perfume  of  spices  ;  then  he  said, 
earnestly  : 

"If  this,  in  your  opinion,  kolchytes,  is  not  a  human 
heart,  and  if  in  yours,  my  brother  of  the  temple  of  Amon, 
it  is  a  rams  heart,  and  if  it  was  found  in  the  body  of  Rui, 
who  is  gone  to  Osiris,  we  here 'have  a  mystery  which  only 
the  gods  can  solve.  Follow  me  into  the  great  court.  Let 
the  gong  be  sounded,  Gagabu,  four  times,  for  I  wish  to 
call  all  the  brethren  together. " 

The  gong  rang  in  loud  waves  of  sound  to  the  furthest 
limits  of  the  group  of  buildings.  The  initiated,  the 
fathers,  the  temple  servants,  and  the  scholars  streamed 
in/ and  in  a  few  minutes  were  all  collected.  Not  a  man 
was  wanting,  for  at  the  four  strokes  of  the  rarely  sounded 
alarm  every  dweller  in  the  House  of  Seti  was  expected  to 
appear  in  the  court  of  the  temple.  Even  the  leech  Neb- 
secht  came  ;  for  he  feared  that  the  unusual  summons  an- 
nounced the  outbreak  of  a  fire. 

Ameni  ordered  the  assembly  to  arrange  itself  in  a  pro- 
cession, informed  his  astonished  hearers  that  in  the  breast 
of  the  deceased  prophet  Rui,  a  ram's  heart,  instead  of  a 
man's,  had  been  found,  and  desired  them  all  to  follow  his 
instructions.  Each  one,  he  said,  was  to  fall  on  his  knees 
and  pray,  while  he  would  carry  the  heart  into  the  holiest 
of  holies,  and  inquire  of  the  gods  what  this  wonder  might 
portend  to  the  faithful. 

Ameni,  with  the  heart  in  his  hand,  placed  himself  at 
the  head  of  the  procession,  and  disappeared  behind  the 
veil  of  the  sanctuary  ;  the  initiated  prayed  in  the  vestibule, 


UARDA. 


in  front  of  it  ;  the  priests  and  scholars  in  the  vast  court, 
which  was  closed  on  the  west  by  the  stately  colonnade 
and  the  main  gateway  of  the  temple. 

For  fully  an  hour  Ameni  remained  in  the  silent  holy  of 
holies,  from  which  thick  clouds  of  incense  rolled  out,  and 
then  he  reappeared  with  a  golden  vase  set  with  precious 
stones.  His  tall  figure  was  now  resplendent  with  rich 
ornaments,  and  a  priest,  who  walked  before  him,  held  the 
vessel  high  above  his  head. 

Ameni's  eyes  seemed  spellbound  to  the  vase,  and  he 
followed  it,  supporting  himself  by  his  crozier,  with  humble 
inflections. 

The  initiated  bowed  their  heads  till  they  touched  the 
pavement,  and  the  priest,  and  scholars  bent  their  faces 
down  to  the  earth,  when  they  beheld  their  haughty  master 
so  filled  with  humility  and  devotion.  The  worshipers 
did  not  raise  themselves  till  Ameni  had  reached  the  middle 
of  the  court  and  ascended  the  steps  of  the  altar,  on  which 
the  vase  with  the  heart  was  now  placed,  and  they  listened 
to  the  slow  and  solemn  accents  of  the  high-priest  which 
sounded  clearly  through  the  whole  court. 

"Fall  down  again  and  worship!  wonder,  pray  and 
adore  !  The  noble  inspector  of  sacrifices  of  the  temple  of 
Amon  has  not  been  deceived  in  his  judgment  ;  a  ram's 
heart  was  in  fact  found  in  the  pious  breast  of  Rui.  I 
heard  distinctly  the  voice  of  the  Divinity  in  the  sanctuary, 
and  strange  indeed  was  the  speech  that  met  my  ear. 
Wolves  tore  the  sacred  ram  of  Amon  in  his  sanctuary  on 
the  other  bank  of  the  river,  but  the  heart  of  the  divine 
beast  found  its  way  into  the  bosom  of  the  saintly  Rui.  A 
great  miracle  has  been  worked,  and  the  gods  have  shown 
a  wonderful  sign.  The  spirit  of  the  Highest  liked  not  to 
dwell  in  the  body  of  this  not  perfectly  holy  ram,  and  seek- 
ing a  purer  abiding  place  found  it  in  the  breast  of  our 
Rui ;  and  now  in  this  consecrated  vase.  In  this  the  heart 
shall  be  preserved  till  a  new  ram  offered  by  a  worthy  hand 
enters  the  herd  of  Amon.  This  heart  shall  be  preserved 
with  the  most  sacred  relics  ;  it  has  the  property  of  healing 
many  diseases,  and  the  significant  words  seem  favorable 
which  stood  written  in  the  midst  of  the  vapor  of  incense, 
and  which  I  will  repeat  to  you  word  for  word  :  '  That 
which  is  high  shall  rise  higher,  and  that  which  exalts 


252 


UARDA. 


itself  shall  soon  fall  down/  Rise,  pastophori !  hasten  to 
fetch  the  holy  images,  bring  them  out,  place  the  sacred 
heart  at  the  head  of  the  procession,  and  let  us  march  round 
the  walls  of  the  temple  with  hymns  of  praise.  Ye  temple 
servants,  seize  your  staves,  and  spread  in  every  part  of 
the  city  the  news  of  the  miracle  which  the  Divinity  has 
vouchsafed  to  us. " 

After  the  procession  had  marched  round  the  temple  and 
dispersed,  the  priest  of  Anion  took  leave  ofAmeni;  he 
bowed  deeply  and  formally  before  him,  and,  with  a  cool- 
ness that  was  almost  malicious,  said  : 

"  We,  in  the  temple  of  Amon,  shall  know  how  to  appre- 
ciate what  you  heard  in  the  holy  of  holies.  The  miracle 
has  occurred,  and  the  Iking  shall  learn  how  it  came  to 
pass,  and  in  what  words  it  was  announced." 

"In  the  words  of  the  Most  High,"  said  the  high-priest 
with  dignity  ;  he  bowed  to  the  other,  and  turned  to  a 
group  of  priests,  who  were  discussing  the  great  event  of 
the  day. 

Ameni  inquired  of  them  as  to  the  preparations  for  the 
festival  of  the  morrow,  and  then  desired  the  chief  haruspex 
to  call  the  refractory  pupils  together  in  the  school-court. 
The  old  man  informed  him  that  Pentaur  had  returned, 
and  he  followed  his  superior  to  the  released  prisoners, 
who,  prepared  for  the  wrorst,  and  expecting  severe  punish- 
ment, nevertheless  shook  with  laughter  when  Rameri  sug- 
gested that,  if  by  chance  they  were  condemned  to  kneel 
upon  peas,  they  should  get  them  cooked  first. 

"It  will  be  long  asparagus — not  peas,"  said  another, 
looking  over  his  shoulder,  and  pretending  to  be  flogging. 

They  all  shouted  again  with  laughter,  but  it  was  hushed 
as  soon  as  they  heard  Ameni  s  well-known  footstep. 

Each  feared  the  worst,  and  when  the  high-priest  stood 
before  them  even  Rameri  s  mirth  was  quite  quelled,  for 
though  Ameni  looked  neither  angry  nor  threatening,  his 
appearance  commanded  respect,  and  each  one  recognized 
in  him  a  judge  against  whose  verdict  no  remonstrance  was 
to  be  thought  of. 

To  their  infinite  astonishment  Ameni  spoke  kindly  to 
the  thoughtless  boys,  praised  the  motive  of  their  action — 
their  attachment  to  a  highly  endowed  teacher — but  then 
clearly  and  deliberately  laid  before  them  the  folly  of  the 


UARDA. 


253 


means  they  had  employed  to  attain  their  end,  and  at  what 
a  cost.  "  Only  think/'  he  continued,  turning  to  the 
prince,  "if  your  father  sent  a  general,  who  he  thought 
would  be  better  in  a  different  place,  from  Syria  to  Kusch, 
and  his  troops  therefore  all  went  over  to  the  enemy  !  How 
would  you  like  that  ?  " 

So  for  some  minutes  he  continued  to  blame  and  warn 
them,  and  he  ended  his  speech  by  promising,  in  considera- 
tion of  the  great  miracle  that  gave  that  day  a  special 
sanctity,  to  exercise  unwonted  clemency.  For  the  sake 
of  example,  he  said,  he  could  not  let  them  pass  altogether 
unpunished,  and  he  now  asked  them  which  of  them  had 
been  the  instigator  of  the  deed ;  he  and  he  only  should 
suffer  punishment. 

He  had  hardly  done  speaking,  when  Prince  Rameri 
stepped  forward,  and  said  modestly  : 

"  We  acknowledge,  holy  father,  that  we  have  played  a 
foolish  trick  ;  and  I  lament  it  doubly  because  I  devised  it, 
and  made  the  others  follow  me.  I  love  Pentaur,  and  next 
to  thee  there  is  no  one  like  him  in  the  sanctuary." 

Ameni's  countenance  grew  dark,  and  he  answered  with 
displeasure  : 

"  No  judgment  is  allowed  to  pupils  as  to  their  teachers 
— nor  to  you.  If  you  were  not  the  son  of  the  king,  who 
rules  Egypt  as  Ra,  I  would  punish  your  temerity  with 
stripes.  My  hands  are  tied  with  regard  to  you,  and  yet 
they  must  be  everywhere  and  always  at  work  if  the  hun- 
dreds committed  to  my  care  are  to  be  kept  from  harm  !  " 

"Nay,  punish  me  !"  cried  Rameri.  "  If  I  commit  a 
folly  I  am  ready  to  bear  the  consequences  !  " 

Ameni  looked  pleased  at  the  vehement  boy,  and  would 
willingly  have  shaken  him  by  the  hand  and  stroked  his 
curly  head,  but  the  penance  he  proposed  for  Rameri  was 
to  serve  a  great  end,  and  Ameni  would  not  allow  any 
overflow  of  emotion  to  hinder  him  in  the  execution  of  a 
well  considered  design.  So  he  answered  the  prince  with 
grave  determination  : 

"  I  must  and  will  punish  you — and  I  do  so  by  request- 
ing you  to  leave  the  House  of  Seti  this  very  day/' 

The  prince  turned  pale.  But  Ameni  went  on  more 
kindly  : 

"I  do  not  expel  you  with  ignominy  from  among  us— 


254 


UARDA. 


I  only  bid  you  a  friendly  farewell.  In  a  few  weeks  you 
would  in  any  case  have  left  the  college,  and  by  the  king's 
command  have  transferred  your  blooming  life,  health  and 
strength  to  the  exercising  ground  of  the  chariot-brigade. 
No  punishment  for  you  but  this  lies  in  my  power.  Now 
give  me  your  hand  ;  you  will  make  a  fine  man,  and  per- 
haps a  great  warrior." 

The  prince  stood  in  astonishment  before  Ameni,  and 
did  not  take  his  offered  hand.  Then  the  priest  went  up 
to  him,  and  said  : 

uYou  said  you  were  ready  to  take  the  consequences  of 
your  folly,  and  a  prince's  word  must  be  kept.  Before  sun- 
set we  will  conduct  you  to  the  gate  of  the  temple." 

Ameni  turned  his  back  on  the  boys,  and  left  the  school- 
court. 

Rameri  looked  after  him.  Utter  whiteness  had  over- 
spread his  blooming  face,  and  the  blood  had  left  even  his 
lips.  None  of  his  companions  approached  him,  for  each 
felt  that  what  was  passing  in  his  soul  at  this  moment 
would  brook  no  careless  intrusion.  No  one  spoke  a  word  ; 
they  all  looked  at  him. 

He  soon  observed  this,  and  tried  to  collect  himself,  and 
then  he  said  in  a  low  tone  while  he  held  out  his  hands  to 
Anana  and  another  friend  : 

"Am  I  then  so  bad  that  I  must  be  driven  out  from 
among  you  all  like  this — that  such  a  blow  must  be  in- 
flicted on  my  father  ?  " 

"You  refused  Ameni  your  hand  !  "  answered  Anana. 
"Go  to  him,  offer  him  your  hand,  beg  him  to  be  less 
severe,  and  perhaps  he  will  let  you  remain." 

Rameri  answered  only  "  No."  But  that  "  No  "  was  so 
decided  that  all  who  knew  him  understood  that  it  was 
final. 

Before  the  sun  set  he  had  left  the  school.  Ameni  gave 
him  his  blessing  ;  he  told  him  that  if  he  himself  ever  had 
to  command  he  would  understand  his  severity,  and  al- 
lowed the  other  scholars  to  accompany  him  as  far  as  the 
Nile.     Pentaur  parted  from  him  tenderly  at  the  gate. 

When  Rameri  was  alone  in  the  cabin  of  his  gilt  bark 
with  his  tutor,  he  felt  his  eyes  swimming  in  tears. 

"  Your  highness  is  surely  not  weeping  ?  "  asked  the  offi- 
cial. 


UARDA. 


"Why?  "  asked  the  prince,  sharply. 

"I  thought  I  saw  tears  on  your  highness'  cheeks." 

"  Tears  of  joy  that  I  am  out  of  the  trap/'  cried  Rameri  ; 
he  sprang  on  shore,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  with  his 
sister  in  the  palace. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

This  eventful  day  had  brought  much  that  was  unex- 
pected to  our  friends  in  Thebes,  as  well  as  to  those  who 
lived  in  the  Necropolis. 

The  Lady  Katuti  had  risen  early  after  a  sleepless  night. 
Nefert  had  come  in  late,  had  excused  her  delay  by  shortly 
explaining  to  her  mother  that  she  had  been  detained  by 
Bent-Anat,  and  had  then  affectionately  offered  her  brow 
for  a  kiss  of  "  good-night. " 

When  the  widow  was  about  to  withdraw  to  her  sleeping- 
room,  and  Nemu  had  lighted  her  lamp,  she  remembered 
the  secret  which  Paaker  was  to  deliver  into  the  keeping  of 
Ani.  She  ordered  the  dwarf  to  impart  to  her  what  he 
knew,  and  the  little  man  told  her  at  last,  after  sincere 
efforts  at  resistance — for  he  feared  for  his  mother's  safety 
— that  Paaker  had  administered  half  of  a  love-philter  to 
Nefert,  and  that  the  remainder  was  still  in  his  hands. 

A  few  hours  since  this  information  would  have  filled 
Katuti  with  indignation  and  disgust  ;  now,  though  she 
blamed  the  Mohar,  she  asked  eagerly  -whether  such  a 
drink  could  be  proved  to  have  any  actual  effect. 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  the  dwarf,  "if  the  whole  were 
taken,  but  Nefert  only  had  half  of  it." 

At  a  late  hour  Katuti  was  still  pacing  her  bedroom, 
thinking  of  Paakers  insane  devotion,  of  Mena's  faithless- 
ness, and  of  Nefert's  altered  demeanor  ;  and  when  she 
went  to  bed,  a  thousand  conjectures,  fears  and  anxieties 
tormented  her,  while  she  was  distressed  at  the  change 
which  had  come  over  Nefert's  love  to  her  mother,  a  senti- 
ment which  of  all  others  should  be  the  most  sacred,  and 
the  most  secure  against  all  shock. 

Soon  after  sunrise  she  went  into  the  little  temple  at- 


256 


UARDA. 


tached  to  the  house,  and  made  an  offering  to  the  statue, 
which,  under  the  form  of  Osiris,  represented  her  lost  hus- 
band ;  then  she  went  to  the  temple  of  Amon,  where  she 
also  prayed  a  while,  and  nevertheless,  on  her  return  home, 
found  that  her  daughter  had  not  yet  made  her  appearance 
in  the  hall  where  they  usually  breakfasted  together. 

Katuti  preferred  to  be  undisturbed  during  the  early 
morning  hours,  and  therefore  did  not  interfere  with  her 
daughter's  disposition  to  sleep  far  into  the  day  in  her  care- 
fully darkened  room. 

When  the  widow  went  to  the  temple  Nefert  was  accus- 
tomed to  take  a  cup  of  milk  in  bed,  then  she  would  let 
herself  be  dressed,  and  when  her  mother  returned,  she 
would  find  her  in  the  veranda  or  hall,  which  is  so  well 
known  to  the  reader. 

To-day,  however,  Katuti  had  to  breakfast  alone  ;  but 
when  she  had  eaten  a  few  mouthfuls  she  prepared  Nefert 's 
breakfast — a  white  cake  and  a  little  wine  in  a  small  silver 
beaker,  carefully  guarded  from  dust  and  insects  by  a  nap- 
kin thrown  over  it — and  went  into  her  daughter  s  room. 

She  was  startled  at  finding  it  empty,  but  she  was  in- 
formed that  Nefert  had  gone  earlier  than  was  her  wont  to 
the  temple,  in  her  litter. 

With  a  heavy  sigh  she  returned  to  the  veranda,  and 
there  received  her  nephew  Paaker,  who  had  come  to  in- 
quire after  the  health  of  his  relatives,  followed  by  a  slave, 
who  carried  two  magnificent  bunches  of  flowers,  and  by 
the  great  dog  which  had  formerly  belonged  to  his  father. 
One  bouquet  he  said  had  been  cut  for  Nefert,  and  the 
other  for  her  mother. 

Katuti  had  taken  quite  a  new  interest  in  Paaker  since 
she  had  heard  of  his  procuring  the  philter. 

No  other  young  man  of  the  rank  to  which  they  be- 
longed would  have  allowed  himself  to  be  so  mastered  by  his 
passion  for  a  woman  as  this  Paaker  was,  who  went  straight 
to  his  aim  with  stubborn  determination,  and  shunned  no 
means  that  might  lead  to  it.  The  pioneer,  who  had  grown 
up  under  her  eyes,  whose  weaknesses  she  knew,  and 
whom  she  was  accustomed  to  look  down  upon,  suddenly 
appeared  to  her  as  a  different  man — almost  a  stranger — as 
the  deliverer  of  his  friends,  and  the  merciless  antagonist 
of  his  enemies. 


UARDA. 


257 


These  reflections  had  passed  rapidly  through  her  mind. 
Now  her  eyes  rested  on  the  sturdy,  strongly  knit  figure  of 
her  nephew,  audit  struck  her  that  he  bore  no  resemblance 
to  his  tall,  handsome  father.  Often  had  she  admired  her 
brother-in-law's  slender  hand,  that  nevertheless  could  so 
effectually  wield  a  sword,  but  that  of  his  son  was  broad 
and  ignoble  in  form.  * 

While  Paaker  was  telling  her  that  he  must  shortly  leave 
for  Syria,  she  involuntarily  observed  the  action  of  his 
hand,  which  often  went  cautiously  to  his  girdle  as  if  he 
had  something  concealed  there  ;  this  was  the  oval  phial 
with  the  rest  of  the  philter.  Katuti  observed  it,  and  her 
cheeks  flushed  when  it  occurred  to  her  to  guess  what  he 
had  there. 

The  pioneer  could  not  but  observe  Katuti's  agitation, 
and  he  said  in  a  tone  of  sympathy  : 

"I  perceive  that  you  are  in  pain,  or  in  trouble.  The 
master  of  Mena's  stud  at  Hermonthis  has  no  doubt  been 
with  you — No  ?  He  came  to  me  yesterday,  and  asked  me 
to  allow  him  to  join  my  troops.  He  is  very  angry  with 
you,  because  he  has  been  obliged  to  sell  some  of  Mena's 
gold-bays.  I  have  bought  the  finest  of  them.  They  are 
splendid  creatures  !  Now  he  wants  to  go  to  his  master 
'to  open  his  eyes/  as  he  says.  Lie  down  a  little  while, 
aunt,  you  are  very  pale." 

Katuti  did  not  follow  this  prescription  ;  on  the  contrary 
she  smiled,  and  said  in  a  voice  half  of  anger  and  half  of 
pity  : 

"The  old  fool  firmly  believes  that  the  weal  or  woe  of 
the  family  depends  on  the  gold-bays.  He  would  like  to 
go  with  you?  To  open  Mena's  eyes?  No  one  has  yet 
tried  to  bind  them  !  " 

Katuti  spoke  the  last  words  in  a  low  tone,  and  her 
glance  fell.  Paaker  also  looked  down,  and  was  silent  ; 
but  he  soon  recovered  his  presence  of  mind,  and  said  : 

"  If  Nefert  is  to  be  long  absent,  I  will  go," 

"No— no,  stay,"  cried  the  widow.  "She  wished  to 
see  you,  and  must  soon  come  in.  There  are  her  cake 
and  her  wine  waiting  for  her." 

With  these  words  she  took  the  napkin  off  the  breakfast- 
table,  held  up  the  beaker  in  her  hand,  and  then  said,  with 
the  cloth  still  in  her  hand  : 


258  UARDA. 

"  I  will  leave  you  a  moment,  and  see  if  Nefert  is  not 
yet  come  home." 

Hardly  had  she  left  the  veranda  when  Paaker,  having 
convinced  himself  that  no  one  could  see  him,  snatched 
the  flask  from  his  girdle,  and,  with  a  short  invocation  to 
his  father  in  Osiris,  poured  its  whole  contents  into  the 
beaker,  which  thus  was  filled  to  the  very  brim.  A  few 
minutes  later  Nefert  and  her  mother  entered  the  hall. 

Paaker  took  up  the  nosegay,  which  his  slave  had  laid 
down  on  a  seat,  and  timidly  approached  the  young  woman, 
who  walked  in  with  such  an  aspect  of  decision  and  self- 
confidence  that  her  mother  looked  at  her  in  astonishment,, 
while  Paaker  felt  as  if  she  had  never  before  appeared  so 
beautiful  and  brilliant.  Was  it  possible  that  she  should 
love  her  husband,  when  he  had  so  little  respect  for  his 
plighted  troth  ?  Did  her  heart  still  belong  to  another  ?  Or 
had  the  love-philter  set  him  in  the  place  of  Mena  ?  Yes  ! 
yes  !  for  how  warmly  she  greeted  him.  She  put  out  her 
hand  to  him  while  he  was  still  quite  far  off,  let  it  rest  in 
his,  thanked  him  with  feeling,  and  praised  his  fidelity  and 
generosity. 

Then  she  went  up  to  the  table,  begged  Paaker  to  sit 
down  with  her,  broke  her  cake,  and  inquired  for  her  aunt 
Setchem,  Paaker's  mother. 

Katuti  and  Paaker  watched  all  her  movements  with 
beating  hearts. 

Now  she  took  up  the  beaker,  and  lifted  it  to  her  lips,  but 
set  it  down  again  to  answer  Paaker's  remark  that  she  was 
breakfasting  late. 

"  I  have  hitherto  been  a  real  lazy-bones,"  she  said,  with 
a  blush.  "  But  this  morning  I  got  up  early,  to  go  and  pray 
in  the  temple  in  the  fresh  dawn.  You  know  what  has 
happened  to  the  second  ram  of  Amon.  It  is  a  frightful 
occurrence.  The  priests  were  all  in  the  greatest  agitation, 
but  the  venerable  Bek  el  Chunsu  received  me  himself,  and 
interpreted  my  dream,  and  now  my  spirit  is  light  and 
contented. " 

"And  you  did  all  this  without  me?"  said  Katuti,  in 
gentle  reproof. 

"  I  would  not  disturb  you,"  replied  Nefert. 

''Besides,"  she  added,  coloring,  "you  never  take  me 
to  the  city  and  the  temple  in  the  morning." 


UARDA. 


259 


Again  she  took  up  the  wine-cup  and  looked  into  it,  but 
without  drinking  any,  went  on  : 

"  Would  you  like  to  hear  what  I  dreamed,  Paaker?  It 
was  a  strange  vision." 

The  pioneer  could  hardly  breathe  for  expectation,  still 
he  begged  her  to  tell  her  dream. 

" Only  think,"  said  Nefert,  pushing  the  beaker  on  the 
smooth  table,  which  was  wet  with  a  few  drops  which  she 
had  spilt,  "I  dreamed  of  the  Neha-tree,*  down  there  in 
the  great  tub,  which  your  father  brought  me  from 
Punt,  when  I  was  a  little  child,  and  which  since  then 
has  grown  quite  a  tall  tree.  There  is  no  tree  in  the 
garden  I  love  so  much,  for  it  always  reminds  me  of  your 
father,  who  was  so  kind  to  me,  and  whom  I  can  never 
forget  !  " 

Paaker  bowed  assent. 

Nefert  looked  at  him,  and  interrupted  her  story  when  she 
observed  his  crimson  cheeks. 

' '  It  is  very  hot  !  Would  you  like  some  wine  to  drink — 
or  some  water  ?  " 

With  these  words  she  raised  the  wine  cup,  and  drank 
about  half  of  the  contents  ;  then  she  shuddered,  and  while 
her  pretty  face  took  a  comical  expression,  she  turned  to  her 
mother,  who  was  seated  behind  her,  and  held  the  beaker 
toward  her. 

1 '  The  wine  is  quite  sour  to-day  !  "  she  said.  "  Taste  it, 
mother." 

Katuti  took  the  little  silver  cup  in  her  hand,  and 
gravely  put  it  to  her  lips,  but  without  wetting  them.  A 
smile  passed  over  her  face,  and  her  eyes  met  those  of  the 
pioneer,  who  stared  at  her  in  horror.  The  picture  flashed 
before  her  mind  of  herself  languishing  for  the  pioneer,  and 
of  his  terror  at  her  affection  for  him  !  Her  selfish  and 
intriguing  spirit  was  free  from  coarseness,  and  yet  she 
could  have  laughed  with  all  her  heart  even  while  engaged 
in  the  most  shameful  deed  of  her  whole  life.  She  gave  the 
wine  back  to  her  daughter,  saying  good-humoredly  : 

' '  I  have  tasted  sweeter,  but  acid  is  refreshing  in  this 
heat." 

*  The  Neha-tree  yielded  the  resinous  berries  called  Anta,  which  were 
highly  valued  for  incense.  It  is  probably  Balsamodendron  Myrrhcea, 
and  allied  to  the  tree  which  produces  the  balm  of  Gilead. 


260 


UARDA. 


"  That  is  true/'  said  the  wife  of  Mena  ;  she  emptied  the 
cup  to  the  bottom,  and  then  went  on,  as  if  refreshed  : 

"But  I  will  tell  you  the  rest  of  my  dream.  I  saw  the 
Neha-tree,  which  your  father  gave  me,  quite  plainly  ;  nay 
I  could  have  declared  that  I  smelt  its  perfume,  but  the 
interpreter  assured  me  that  we  never  smell  in  our  dreams. 
I  went  up  to  the  beautiful  tree  in  admiration.  Then  sud- 
denly a  hundred  axes  appeared  in  the  air,  wielded  by 
unseen  hands,  and  struck  the  poor  tree  with  such  violence 
that  the  branches  one  by  one  fell  to  the  ground,  and  at  last 
the  trunk  itself  was  felled.  If  you  think  it  grieved  me 
you  are  mistaken.  On  the  contrary,  I  was  delighted  with 
the  flashing  hatchets  and  the  flying  splinters.  When  at 
last  nothing  was  left  but  the  roots  in  the  tub  of  earth,  I 
perceived  that  the  tree  was  rising  to  new  life.  Suddenly 
my  arms  became  strong,  my  feet  active,  and  I  fetched 
quantities  of  water  from  the  tank,  poured  it  over  the  roots, 
and  when,  at  last,  I  could  exert  myself  no  longer,  a  tender 
green  shoot  showed  itself  on  the  wounded  root,  a  bud  ap- 
peared, a  green  leaf  unfolded  itself,  a  juicy  stem  sprouted 
quickly,  it  became  a  firm  trunk,  sent  out  branches  and 
twigs,  and  these  became  covered  with  leaves  and  flowers, 
white'  red  and  blue  ;  then  various  birds  came  and  settled 
on  the  top  of  the  tree,  and  sang.  Ah  !  my  heart  sang  louder 
than  the  birds  at  that  moment,  and  I  said  to  myself  that 
without  me  the  tree  would  have  been  dead,  and  that  it 
owed  its  life  to  me." 

"A  beautiful  dream/'  said  Katuti  ;  "that  reminds  me 
of  your  girlhood,  when  you  would  lie  awake  half  the  night 
inventing  all  sorts  of  tales.  What  interpretation  did  the 
priest  give  you  ? " 

"  He  promised  me  many  things,"  said  Nefert,  /and  he 
gave  me  the  assurance  that  the  happiness  to  which  I  am 
predestined  shall  revive  in  fresh  beauty  after  many  inter- 
ruptions. " 

"And  Paakers  father  gave  you  the  Neha-tree  ? '  asked 
Katuti,  leaving  the  veranda  as  she  spoke  and  walking  out 
into  the  garden. 

"  My  father  brought  it  to  Thebes  from  the  far  east, 
said  Paaker,  in    confirmation'  of  the    widow's  parting 
words. 

"And  that  is  exactly  what  makes  me  so  happy,"  said 


UARDA.  261 


Nefert.  "For  your  father  was  as  kind,  and  as  dear  to  me 
as  if  he  had  been  my  own.  Do  you  remember  when  we 
were  sailing  round  the  pond,  and  the  boat  upset,  and  you 
pulled  me  senseless  out  of  the  water  ?  Never  shall  I  forget 
the  expression  with  which  the  great  man  looked  at  me 
when  I  woke  up  in  his  arms  ;  such  wise  true  eyes  no  one 
ever  had  but  he." 

< 'He  was  good,  and  he  loved  you  very  much,  said 
Paaker,  recalling,  for  his  part,  the  moment  when  he  had 
dared  to  press  a  kiss  on  the  lips  of  the  sweet  unconscious 

child.  ,       ,  , 

"And  I  am  so  glad/  Nefert  went  on,  "that  the  day 
has  come  at  last  when  we  can  talk  of  him  together,  again, 
and  when  the  old  grudge  that  lay  so  heavy  on  my  heart  is 
all  forgotten.  How  good  you  are  to  us,  I  have  already 
learned  ;  my  heart  overflows  with  gratitude  to  you,  when 
I  remember  my  childhood,  and  I  can  never  forget  that  1 
was  indebted  to  you  for  all  that  was  bright  and  happy  in 
it.  Only  look  at  the  big  dog— poor  Descher !—  how  he 
rubs  against  me,  and  shows  that  he  has  not  forgotten  me  ! 
Whatever  comes  from  your  house  fills  my  mind  with  pleas- 
ant memories. " 

"We  all  love  you  dearly,"  said  Paaker,  looking  at  her 
tenderly. 

"And  how  sweet  it  was  in  your  garden  !  "  cried  Nefert. 
"  The  nosegay  here  that  you  have  brought  me  shall  be 
placed  in  water,  and  preserved  a  long  time,  as  a  greeting 
from  the  place  in  which  once  I  could  play  so  carelessly, 
and  dream  so  happily." 

With  these  words  she  pressed  the  flowers  to  her  lips  ; 
Paaker  sprang  forward,  seized  her  hand,  and  covered  it 
with  burning  kisses. 

Nefert  started  and  drew  away  her  hand,  but  he  put  out 
his  arm  to  clasp  her  to  him.  He  had  touched  her- with 
his  trembling  hand,  when  loud  voices  were  heard  in  the 
garden,  and  Nemu  hurried  in  to  announce  the  arrival  of 
the  Princess  Bent-Anat. 

At  the  same  moment  Katuti  appeared,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  princess  herself. 

Paaker  retreated,  and  quitted  the  room  before  Nefert 
had  time  to  express  her  indignation.  He  staggered  to  his 
chariot  like  a  drunken  man.    He  supposed  himself  beloved 


262  UARDA. 


bv  Mena's  wife,  his  heart  was  full  of  triumph  he  purposed 
rewarding  Hekt  with  gold,  and  went  to  the  palace  without 
delay  to  crave  of  Ani  a  mission  to  Syria  There  it  should 
be  brought  to  the  test— he  or  Mena 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

While  Nefert,  frozen  with  horror,  could  not  find  a  word 
of  greeting  for  her  royal  friend,  Bent-Anat  with  native 
dignity  laid  before  the  widow  her  choice  of  Nefert  to  fill 
the  place  of  her  lost  companion,  and  desired  that  Menas 
wife  should  go  to  the  palace  that  very  day  • 

She  had  never  before  spoken  thus  to  Katuti,  and  Katuti 
could  not  overlook  the  fact  that  Bent-Anat  had  intention- 
ally eiven  up  her  old  confidential  tone. 

<<  Nefert  has  complained  of  me  to  her,  thought  she  to 
herself,  "  and  she  considers  me  no  longer  worthy  ot  her 
former' friendly  kindness." 

She  was  vexed  and  hurt,  and  though  she  understood  the 
danger  which  threatened  her,  now  her  daughter  s  eyes 
were  opened,  still  the  thought  of  losing  her  child  inflicted 
T  painful  wound.  It  was  this  which  filled  her  eyes  with 
tears,  and  sincere  sorrow  trembled  in  her  voice  as  she 

^^Thou  hast  required  the  better  half  of  my  life  at  my 
hand  :  but  thou  hast  but  to  command,  and  I  to  obey. 

Bent-Anat  waved  her  hand  proudly,  as  if  to  confirm 
the  widow's  statement ;  but  Nefert  went  up  to  her  mother 
threw  her  arms  round  her  neck,  and  wept  upon  her 

^TeSsglistened  even  in  the  princess'  eyes  when  Katuti  at 
last  led  her  daughter  toward  her,  and  pressed  yet  one 
more  kiss  on  her  forehead. 

Bent-Anat  took  Neferfs  hand,  and  did  not  release  it, 
while  she  requested  the  widow  to  give  her  daughters 
dresses  and  ornaments  into  the  charge  of  the  slaves  and 
waiting-women  whom  she  would  send  for  them. 

"  And  do  not  forget  the  case  with  the  dried  flowers,  and 


UARDA. 


263 


my  amulets,  and  the  images  of  the  gods,"  said  Nefert. 
«  And  I  should  like  to  have  the  Neha-tree  which  my  uncle 
gave  me."  , 

Her  white  cat  was  playing  at  her  feet  with  Paaker  s 
flowers,  which  she  had  dropped  on  the  floor,  and  when 
she  saw  her  she  took  her  up  and  kissed  her. 

"  Bring  the  little  creature  with  you/' said  Bent-Anat. 
"  It  was  your  favorite  plaything/' 

"  No/'  replied  Nefert,  coloring. 

The  princess  understood  her,  pressed  her  hand,  and  said, 
while  she  pointed  to  Nemu  : 

"The  dwarf  is  your  own  too  ;  shall  he  come  with 
you  ? " 

"I  will  give  him  to  my  mother,"  said  Nefert.  She  let 
the  little  man  kiss  her  robe  and  her  feet,  once  more  em- 
braced Katuti,  and  quitted  the  garden  with  her  royal 
friend. 

As  soon  as  Katuti  was  alone,  she  hastened  into  the  little 
chapel  in  which  the  figures  of  her  ancestors  stood,  apart 
from  those  of  Mena.  She  threw  herself  down  before  the 
statue  of  her  husband,  half  weeping,  half  thankful. 

This  parting  had  indeed  fallen  heavily  on  her  soul,  but 
at  the  same  time  it  released  her  from  a  mountain  of 
anxiety  that  had  oppressed  her  breast.  Since  yesterday 
she  had  felt  like  one  who  walks  along  the  edge  of  a  preci- 
pice, and  whose  enemy  is  close  at  his  heels  ;  andthe  sense 
of  freedom  from  the  ever-threatening  danger  soon  got  the 
upper  hand  of  her  maternal  grief.  The  abyss  in  front  of 
her  had  suddenly  closed  ;  the  road  to  the  goal  of  her  efforts 
lay  before  her  smooth  and  firm  beneath  her  feet. 

The  widow,  usually  so  dignified,  hastily  and  eagerly 
walked  down  the  garden  path,  and  for  the  first  time  since 
that  luckless  letter  from  the  camp  had  reached  her,  she 
could  look  calmly  and  clearly  at  the  position  of  affairs, 
and  reflect  on  the  measures  which  Ani  must  take  in  the 
immediate  future.  She  told  herself  that  all  was  well,  and 
that  the  time  for  prompt  and  rapid  action  was  now  come. 

When  the  messengers  came  from  the  princess  she  super- 
intended the  packing  of  the  various  objects  which  Nefert 
wished  to  have,  with  calm  deliberation,  and  then  sent  her 
dwarf  to  Ani,  to  beg  that  he  would  visit  her.  But  before 
Nemu  had  left  Mena's  grounds  he  saw  the  outrunners  of 


264 


UARDA. 


the  regent,  his  chariot,  and  the  troop  of  guards  following 
him. 

"Very  soon  Katuti  and  her  noble  friend  were  walking  up 
and  down  in  the  garden,  while  she  related  to  him  how 
Bent-Anat  had  taken  Nefert  from  her,  and  repeated  to 
him  all  that  she  had  planned  and  considered  during  the 
last  hour. 

"You  have  the  genius  of  a  man,"  said  Ani  ;  "  and  this 
time  you  do  not  urge  me  in  vain.  Ameni  is  ready  to  act, 
Paaker  is  to-day  collecting  his  troops,  to-morrow  he  will 
assist  at  the  feast  of  the  Valley,  and  the  next  day  he  goes 
to  Syria." 

"He  has  been  with  you  ?  "  Katuti  asked. 
"  He  came  to  the  palace  on  leaving  your  house,"  replied 
Ani,  "with  glowing  cheeks,  and  resolved  to  the  utmost; 
though  he  does  not  dream  that  I  hold  him  in  my  hand." 

Thus  speaking  they  entered  the  veranda,  in  which  Nemu 
had  remained,  and  he  now  hid  himself  as  usual  behind  the 
ornamental  shrubs  to  overhear  them.  They  sat  down  near 
each  other,  by  Nefert  s  breakfast  table,  and  Ani  asked 
Katuti  whether  the  dwarf  had  told  her  his  mother's  secret. 
Katuti  feigned  ignorance,  listened  to  the  story  of  the  love- 
philter,  and  played  the  part  of  the  alarmed  mother  very 
cleverly.  The  regent  was  of  opinion,  while  he  tried  to 
soothe  her,  that  there  was  no  real  love-potion  in  the  case  ; 
but  the  widow  exclaimed  : 

' '  Now  I  understand,  now  for  the  first  time  I  comprehend 
my  daughter.  Paaker  must  have  poured  the  drink  into 
her  wine,  for  she  had  no  sooner  drank  it  this  morning  than 
she  was  quite  altered— her  words  to  Paaker  had  quite  a 
tender  ring  in  them  ;  and  if  he  placed  himself  so  cheerfully 
at  your  disposal  it  is  because  he  believes  himself  certainly 
to  be  beloved  by  my  daughter.  The  old  witch's  potion 
was  effectual." 

"There  certainly  are  such  drinks,"  said  Ani,  thought- 
fully. "But  will  they  only  win  hearts  to  young  men  !  If 
that  is  the  case,  the  old  woman's  trade  is  a  bad  one,  for 
youth  is  in  itself  a  charm  to  attract  love.  If  I  were  only  as 
young  as  Paaker  !  You  laugh  at  the  sighs  of  a  man— say 
at  once  of  an  old  man  !  Well,  yes,  I  am  old,  for  the  prime 
of  life  lies  behind  me.  And  yet,  Katuti,  my  friend,  wisest 
of  women— explain  to  me  one  thing.    When  I  was  young 


UARDA. 


265 


I  was  loved  by  many  and  admired  many  women,  but  not 
one  of  them — not  even  my  wife,  who  died  young,  was 
more  to  me  than  a  toy,  a  plaything  ;  and  now  when  I 
stretch  out  my  hand  for  a  girl,  whose  father  I  might  very 
well  be — not  for  her  own  sake,  but  simply  to  serve  my 
purpose — and  she  refuses  me,  I  feel  as  much  disturbed, 
as  much  a  fool  as — as  that  dealer  in  love-philters,  Paaker." 

"Have  you  spoke  to  Bent-Anat?"  asked  Katuti. 

"And  heard  again  from  her  own  lips  the  refusal  she  had 
sent  me  through  you.    You  see  my  spirit  has  suffered  !  " 

"And  on  what  pretext  did  she  reject  your  suit?"  asked 
the  widow. 

"Pretext  !"  cried  Ani.  "  Bent- Anat  and  pretext!  It 
must  be  owned  that  she  has  kingly  pride,  and  not  Ma* 
herself  is  more  truthful  than  she.  That  I  should  have  to 
confess  it !  When  I  think  of  her,  our  plot  seems  to  me  un- 
utterably pitiful.  My  veins  contain,  indeed,  many  drops 
of  the  blood  of  Thotmes,  and  though  the  experience  of  life 
has  taught  me  to  stoop  low,  still  the  stooping  hurts  me. 
I  have  never  known  the  happy  feeling  of  satisfaction  with 
my  lot  and  my  work  ;  for  I  have  always  had  a  greater  posi- 
tion than  I  could  fill,  and  constantly  done  less  than  I  ought 
to  have  done.  In  order  not  to  look  always  resentful, 
I  always  wear  a  smile.  I  have  nothing  left  of  the  face  I 
was  born  with  but  the  mere  skin,  and  always  wear  a  mask. 
I  serve  him  whose  master  I  believe  I  ought  to  be  by  birth  : 
I  hate  Rameses,  who,  sincerely  or  no,  calls  me  his  brother  ; 
and  while  I  stand  as  if  I  were  the  bulwark  of  his  authority 
I  am  diligently  undermining  it.  My  whole  existence  is  a 
lie." 

"  But  it  will  be  truth,"  cried  Katuti,  "as  soon  as  the 
gods  allow  you  to  be — as  you  are — the  real  king  of  this 
country. " 

"  Strange  !  "  said  Ani,  smiling,  "  Ameni,  this  very  day, 
used  almost  exactly  the  same  words.  The  wisdom  of 
priests,  and  that  of  women,  have  much  in  common,  and 
they  fight  with  the  same  weapons.  You  use  words  in- 
stead of  swords,  traps  instead  of  lances,  and  you  cast  not 
our  bodies,  but  our  souls,  into  irons." 

"  Do  you  blame  or  praise  us  for  it  ?  "  said  the  widow. 


*The  Goddess  of  Truth. 


266  UARDA. 

"We  are  in  any  case  not  impotent  allies,  and  therefore,  it 
seems  to  me,  desirable  ones." 

"Indeed  yon  are,"  said  Ani,  smiling.  Not  a  tear  is 
shed  in  the  land,  whether  it  is  shed  for  joy  or  for  sorrow 
for  which  in  the  first  instance  a  priest  or  a  woman  is  not 
responsible.  Seriously,  Katuti-in  nine  great  events  out 
often  you  women  have  a  hand  in  the  game  You  gave 
the  first  impulse  to  all  that  is  plotting  here,  and  I  will  con- 
fess to  you  that,  regardless  of  all  consequences,  I  should 
in  a  few'hours  have  given  up  my  pretensions  to  the 
throne,  if  that  woman  Bent-Anat  had  said    yes  instead 

f  <      r»  '  99 

°  "You  make  me  believe,"  said  Katuti,  "  that  the  weaker 
sex  are  gifted  with  stronger  wills  than  the  nobler  In 
marrying  us  you  style  us  'the  mistress  of  the,  house  and 
if  the  elders  of  the  citizens  grow  infirm  m  this  country  it 
is  not  the  sons  but  the  daughters  that  must  be  their  main- 
stay But  we  women  have  our  weaknesses,  and  chiet  ot 
these  is  curiosity.  May  I  ask  on  what  ground  Bent-Anat 
dismissed  you  ?  "  „  * 

"You  know  so  much  that  you  may  know  all,  replied 
Ani     "She  admitted  me  to  speak  to  her  alone.    It  was 
vet  early,  and  she  had  come  from  the  temple,  where  the 
weak  old  prophet  had  absolved  her  from  uncleanness  ;  she 
met  me,  bright,  beautiful  and  proud,  strong  and  radiant 
as  a  goddessg  and  a  princess.    My  heart  throbbed  as  rf 
were  a  boy,  and  while  she  was  showing  me  her  flowers  I 
said  to  myself :    '  You  are  come  to  obtain  through  her 
anotner  claim  to  the  throne.'    And  yet  I  felt  that,  i  she 
consented  to  be  mine,  I  would  remain  the  true  brother 
the  faithful  regent  of  Rameses,  and  enjoy  happiness  and 
peace  by  her  °side  before  it  was  too  late.    If  she  refused 
me  then  I  resolved  that  fate  must  take  its  way,  and,  in- 
stead of  peace  and  love,  it  must  be  war  for  the  crown 
snatched  from  my  fathers.    I  tried  to  woo  her,  but  she  cut 
my  words  short,  said  I  was  a  noble  man,  and  a  worthy 

suitor  but  " 

"There  came  the  but."  '  *  . 

«.  Yes— in  the  form  of  a  very  frank  '  no.  I  asked  her 
xeasons  ;  she  begged  me  to  be  content  with  the  '  no;  then 
I  jessed  her  harder,  till  she  interrupted  me,  and  owned 
with  proud  decision  that  she  preferred  some  one  else.  I 


UARDA. 


267 


wished  to  learn  the  name  of  the  happy  man— that  she 
refused  Then  my  blood  began  to  boil,  and  my  desire  to 
win  her  increased  ;  but  I  had  to  leave  her,  rejected,  and 
with  a  fresh,  burning;,  poisoned  wound  in  my  heart. 

<<  You  are  jealous  !  "  said  Katuti,  "  and  do  you  know  of 

whom  ? "  .    _  , 

4 4  No  "  replied  Ani.     "But  I  hope  to  find  out  through 
you     What  1  feel  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  express.  But 
one  thin*  I  know,  and  that  is  this,  that  I  entered  the 
palace  a  vacillating  man— that  I  left  it  firmly  resolved. 
I  now  rush  straight  onward,  never  again  to  turn  back. 
From  this  time  forward  you  will  no  longer  have  to  drive 
me  onward,  but  rather  to  hold  me  back  ;  and  as  if  the. 
^ods  had  meant  to  show  that  they  would  stand  by  me,  1 
found  the  high-priest  Ameni,  and  the  chief  pioneer  Paaker 
waiting  for  me  in  my  house.    Ameni  will  act  for  me  m 
E^vpt    Paaker  in  Syria.     My  victorious   troops  from 
Ethiopia  will  enter  Thebes  to-morrow  morning,  on  their 
return  home  in  triumph,  as  if  the  king  were  at  their  head, 
and  will  then  take  part  in  the  feast  of  the  Valley.  Later 
we  will  send  them  into  the  north,  and  post  them  m  the 
fortresses  which  protect  Egypt  *  against  enemies  coming 
from    the  east— Tanis,    Daphne,     Pelusium,  Migdol. 
Rameses,  as  you  know,  requires  that  we  should  drill  the 
serfs  of  the  temples,  and  send  them  to  him  as  auxiliaries 
I  will  send  him  half  of  the  body-guard,  the  other  halt 
shall  serve  my  own  purposes.    The  garrison  of  Memphis 
which  is  devoted  to  Rameses,  shall  be  sent  to  Nubia,  and 
shall  be  relieved  by  troops  that  are  faithful  to  me.  Ihe 
people  of  Thebes  are  led  by  the  priests,  and  to-morrow 
Ameni  will  point  out  to  them  who  is  their  legitimate  king, 
who  will  put  an  end  to  the  war  and  release  them  from 
taxes.    The  children  of  Rameses  will  be  excluded  from  the 
solemnities,   for  Ameni,  in  spite  of  the  chief  priest  of 
Amon,    still    pronounces    Bent-Anat   unclean.  Young 
Rameri  has  been  doing  wrong,  and  Ameni,  who  has  some 
other  great  scheme  in  his  mind,  has  forbidden  him  the 
temple  of  Seti  ;  that  will  work  on  the  crowd  !    You  know 
how  things  are  going  on  in  Syria  :  Rameses  has  suffered 

*  I  have  treated  the  line  of  fortresses  which  protected  Egypt  from  the 
incursions  of  the  Asiatic  tribes  on  the  east  in  "  Egypten  und  die  Bucner 
Mose."    Vol.  ii.,  p.  78. 


268 


UAkDA. 


much  at  the  hands  of  the  Cheta  and  their  allies ;  whole 
legions  are  weary  of  eternally  lying  in  the  field,  and  if 
things  came  to  extremities  would  join  us  ;  but,  perhaps, 
especially  if  Paaker  acquits  himself  well,  we  may  be  vic- 
torious without  fighting.  Above  all  things  now  we  must 
act  rapidly/' 

"I  no  longer  recognize  the  timid,  cautious  lover  of 
delay  !  "  exclaimed  Katuti.  « 

"  Because  now  prudent  hesitation  would  be  want  of  pru- 
dence/' said  Ani. 

"And  if  the  king  should  get  timely  information  as  to 
what  is  happening  here  ?  "  said  Katuti. 

"I  said  so!"  exclaimed  Ani;  "we  are  exchanging 
parts. " 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  Katuti.  "I  also  am  for 
pressing  forward  ;  but  I  would  remind  you  of  a  necessary 
precaution.  No  letters  but  yours  must  reach  the  camp 
for  the  next  few  weeks/' 

"  Once  more  you  and  the  priests  are  of  one  mind,"  said 
Ani,  laughing;  "for  Ameni  gave  me  the  same  counsel. 
Whatever  letters  are  sent  across  the  frontier  between 
Pelusium  and  the  Red  Sea  will  be  detained.  Only  my  let- 
ters— in  which  I  complain  of  the  piratical  sons  of  the 
desert  who  fall  upon  the  messengers — will  reach  the 
king." 

"That  is  wise,"  said  the  widow  ;  "let  the  seaports  of 
the  Red  Sea  be  watched  too,  and  the  public  writers. 
When  you  are  king,  you  can  distinguish  those  who  are 
affected  for  or  against  you." 

Ani  §hook  his  head  and  replied  : 

"  That  would  put  me  in  a  difficult  position  ;  for  if  I 
were  to  punish  those  who  are  now  faithful  to  their  king, 
and  exalt  the  others,  I  should  have  to  govern  with  un- 
faithful servants,  and  turn  away  the  faithful  ones.  You 
need  not  color,  my  kind  friend,  for  we  are  kin,  and  my 
concerns  are  yours." 

Katuti  took  the  hand  he  offered  her  and  said  : 
"It  is  so.    And  I  ask  no  further  reward  than  to  see 
my  father's  house  once  more  in  the  enjoyment  of  its 
rights. " 

"Perhaps  we  shall  achieve  it,"  said  Ani;  "but  in  a 
short  time  if— if  Reflect,  Katuti  ;  try  to  find  out,  ask 


UARDA. 


269 


four  daughter  to  help  you  to  the  utmost.  Who  is  it  that 
she— you  know  whom  I  mean— who  is  it  that  Bent-Anat 

loves  ? "  t        i     i  a 

The  widow  started,  for  Ani  had  spoken  the  last  words 
with  a  vehemence  very  foreign  to  his  usual  courtliness,  but 
soon  she  smiled  and  repeated  to  the  regent  the  names  of  the 
few  young  nobles  who  had  not  followed  the  king,  and  re- 
mained in  Thebes.  "Can  it  be  Chamus?"  at  last  she 
said,  "  he  is  at  the  camp,  it  is  true,  but  nevertheless- — " 
At  this  instant  Nemu,  who  had  not  lost  a  word  of  the 
conversation,  came  in  as  if  straight  from  the  garden  and 
said  : 

"Pardon  me,  my  lady;  but  I  have  heard  a  strange 
thing. " 

"Speak,"  said  Katuti. 

"The  high  and  mighty  Princess  Bent-Anat,  the  daugh- 
ter of  Rameses,  is  said  to  have  an  open  love  affair  with  a 
young  priest  of  the  House  of  Seti."  t 

"  You  bare-faced  scoundrel  !  "  exclaimed  Ani,  and  his 
eyes  sparkled  with  rage.  "  Prove  what  you  say,  or  you 
lose  your  tongue." 

"I  am  willing  to  lose  it  as  a  slanderer  and  traitor  ac- 
cording to  the  law, "  said  the  little  man  abjectly,  and  yet 
with  a  malicious  laugh  ;  "  but  this  time  I  shall  keep  it, 
for  I  can  vouch  for  what  I  say.  You  both  know  that  Bent- 
Anat  was  pronounced  unclean  because  she  stayed  for  an 
hour  and  more  in  the  house  of  a  paraschites.  She  had  an 
assignation  there  with  the  priest.  At  a  second,  in  the 
temple  of  Hatasu,  they  were  surprised  by  Septah,  the 
chief  of  the  haruspices  of  the  House  of  Seti." 

"Who  is  the  priest  ?"  asked  Ani,  with  apparent  calm- 
ness. 

"  A  low-born  man,"  replied  Nemu,  "to  whom  a  free 
education  was  given  at  the  House  of  Seti,  and  who  is  well 
known  as  a  verse  maker  and  interpreter  of  dreams.  His 
name  is  Pentaur,  and  it  certainly  must  be  admitted  that 
he  is  handsome  and  dignified.  He  is  line  for  line  the 
image  of  the  pioneer  Paaker's  late  father— Didst  thou  ever 
see  him,  my  lord  ?  "  4 

The  regent  looked  gloomily  at  the  floor  and  nodded 
that  he  had.  But  Katuti  cried  out  :  "  Fool  that  I  am  !  the 
dwarf  is  right  !    I  saw  how  she  blushed  when  her  brother 


270 


tJARDA. 


told  her  how  the  boys  had  rebelled  on  his  account  against 
Amerii.    It  is  Pentaur  and  none  other  ! 99 
"  Good  !  "  said  Ani,  "  we  will  see." 

With  these  words  he  took  leave  of  Katuti,  who,  as  he 
disappeared  in  the  garden,  muttered  to  himself  : 

"  He  was  wonderfully  clear  and  decided  to-day;  but 
jealousy  is  already  blinding  him  and  will  soon  make  him 
feel  that  he  cannot  get  on  without  my  sharp  eyes." 

Nemuhad  slipped  out  after  the  regent. 

He  called  to  him  from  behind  a  fig-tree,  and  hastily 
whispered,  while  he  bowed  with  deep  respect  : 

"  My  mother  knows  a  great  deal,  most  noble  highness  ! 
The  sacred  Ibis*  wades  through  the  fen  when  it  goes  in 
search  of  prey,  and  why  shouldst  thou  not  stoop  to  pick 
up  gold  out  of  the  dust  ?  I  know  how  thou  couldst  speak 
with  the  old  woman  without  being  seen." 

"  Speak,"  said  Ani. 

"  Throw  her  into  prison  for  a  day,  hear  what  she  has  to 
say,  and  then  release  her — with  gifts  if  she  is  of  service  to 
you — if  not,  with  blows.  But  thou  wilt  learn  something 
important  from  her  that  she  obstinately  refused  to  tell  me 
even. " 

"  We  will  see  !  "  replied  the  regent.  He  threw  a  ring 
of  gold  to  the  dwarf  and  got  into  his  chariot. 

So  large  a  crowd  had  collected  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
palace  that  Ani  apprehended  mischief,  and  ordered  his 
charioteer  to  check  the  pace  of  the  horses,  and  sent  a  few 
police-soldiers  to  the  support  of  the  outrunners,  but  good 
news  seemed  to  await  him,  for  at  the  gate  of  the  castle  he 
heard  the  unmistakable  acclamations  of  the  crowd,  and 
in  the  palace  court  he  found  a  messenger  from  the  temple 
of  Seti,  commissioned  by  Ameni  to  communicate  to  him 
and  to  the  people  the  occurrence  of  a  great  miracle,  in 
that  the  heart  of  the  ram  of  Amon,  that  had  been  torn  by 
wolves,  had  been  found  again  within  the  breast  of  the 
dead  prophet  Rui. 

*  Ibis  religiosa.  It  has  disappeared  from  Egypt.  There  were  two 
varieties  of  this  bird,  which  was  sacred  to  Toth,  and  mummies  of  both 
have  been  found  in  various  places.  Elian  states  that  an  immortal  Ibis 
was  shown  at  Hermopolis.  Plutarch  says  the  Ibis  destroys  poisonous 
reptiles,  and  that  priests  draw  the  water  for  their  purifications  where  the 
Ibis  has  drunk,  as  it  will  never  touch  unwholesome  water. 


UARDA.  271 

Ani  at  once  descended  from  his  chariot,  knelt  down 
before  all  the  people,  who  followed  his  example,  hfted 
hfarms  to  Heaveii,  and  praised  the  gods m ; .loud ^oice. 
When  after  some  minutes,  he  rose  and  entered  the  palace, 
slaves  came  out  and  distributed  bread  to  the  crowd  m 

Am.ThSe^nthas  an  open  hand,"  said  a  joiner  to  his 
neighbor  ;  "'only  look  how  white  the  bread  is.  I  will 
out  it  in  my  pocket  and  take  it  to  the  children. 
P  «  Give  me  a  bit !  "  cried  a  naked  little  scamp  snatching 
the  cake  of  bread  from  the  joiners  hand  and  running 
away!  slipping  between  the  legs  of  the  people  as  lithe  as  a 

You  crocodile's  brat !  "  cried  his  victim     ''The  inso- 
lence of  boys  gets  worse  and  worse  every  day. 

"Thev  are  hungry,"  said  a  woman,  apologetically. 
'■Theh  Lhers  areSgyone  to  the  war,  and  the  mothers 
have  nothing  for  their  children   but  papyrus-pith  and 

^^Twe"  they  enjoy  it,"  laughed  the  joiner.  "Let 
us  push  to  the  left  ]  there  is  a  man  with  some  more 

r^fhe  regent  must  rejoice  greatly  over  the  miracle," 
said  a  shoemaker.     "  It  is  costing  him  something 

"Nothing  like  it  has  happened  for  a  long -time said a,- 
basket-maker.     ' '  And  he  is  particularly  glad  it  should  be 
precisely  Rui's  bodv,  which  the  sacred  heart  should  have 
blessed     You  ask  why  ?    Hatasu  is  Ani's  ancestress, 

bl^indaRui  was  prophet  of  the  temple  of  Hatasu,"  added 

^^ThTpriests  over  there  are  all  hangers-on  of  the  old 
royal  house,  that  I  know,"  asserted  a  ^er 

"  That's  no  secret !  "  cried  the  cobbler.  The  old  times 
were  better  than  these  too.  The  war  upsets  everything 
and  quite  respectable  people  go  barefoot  because  they 
cannot  pay  for  shoe-leather.  Rameses  is  a  great  warrior, 
and  the  son  of  Ra,  but  what  can  he  do  without  the  gods  ; 
and  they  don't  seem  to  like  to  stay  in  Thebes  any  longer ; 

e  why  should  the  heart  of  the  sacred  ram  seek  a  new 
dwelling  in  the  Necropolis,  and  in  the  breast  of  an  ad- 
herent  of  the  old  " 


272 


UARDA. 


* '  Hold  your  tongue, 99  warned  the  basket-maker.  ' '  Here 
comes  one  of  the  watch." 

"I  must  go  back  to  work/'  said  the  baker.  "  I  have 
my  hands  quite  full  for  the  feast  to-morrow." 

"  And  I  too/'  said  the  shoemaker  with  a  sigh,  "for  who 
would  follow  the  king  of  the  gods  through  the  Necropolis 
barefoot. " 

"  You  must  earn  a  good  deal,"  cried  the  basket-maker. 

"We  should  do  better  if  we  had  better  workmen/'  re- 
plied the  shoemaker,  "but  all  the  good  hands  are  gone  to 
the  war.  One  has  to  put  up  with  stupid  youngsters.  And 
as  for  the  women  !  My  wife  must  needs  have  a  new  gown 
for  the  procession,  and  bought  necklets  for  the  children. 
Of  course  we  must  honor  the  dead,  and  they  repay  it  often 
by  standing  by  us  when  we  want  it — but  what  I  pay  for 
sacrifices  no  one  can  tell.  More  than  half  of  what  I  earn 
goes  in  them  " 

"In  the  first  grief  of  losing  my  poor  wife,"  said  the 
baker,  "  I  promised  a  small  offering  every  new  moon,  and 
a  greater  one  every  year.  The  priests  will  not  release  us 
from  our  vows,  and  times  get  harder  and  harder.  And  my 
dead  wife  owes  me  a  grudge,  and  is  as  thankless  as  she  was 
in  her  lifetime  ;  for  when  she  appears  to  me  in  a  dream 
she  does  not  give  me  a  good  word,  and  often  torments 
me." 

"She  is  now  a  glorified  all-seeing  spirit,"  said  the 
basket-maker's  wife,  "and  no  doubt  you  were  faithless  to 
her.  The  glorified  souls  know  all  that  happens,  and  that 
has  happened  on  earth." 

The  baker  cleared  his  throat,  having  no  answer  ready  ; 
but  the  shoemaker  exclaimed  : 

"  By  Anubis,  the  lord  of  the  under- world,  I  hope  I  may 
die  before  my  old  woman  !  for  if  she  tells  them  down  there 
all  I  have  done  in  this  world,  and  if  she  may  be  changed 
into  any  shape  she  pleases,  she  will  come  to  me  every  night, 
and  nip  me  like  a  crab,  and  sit  on  me  like  a  mountain/' 

' '  And  if  you  die  first, "  said  the  woman,  ' '  she  will  follow 
you  afterward  to  the  under- world,  and  see  through  you 
there. " 

"That  will  be  less  dangerous,"  said  the  shoemaker, 
laughing,  "for  then  I  shall  be  glorified  too,  and  shall 
know  all  about  her  past  life.    That  will  not  all  be  white 


UARDA. 


273 


paper  either,  and  if  she  throws  a  shoe  at  me  I  will  fling  the 
last  at  her. " 

4 'Come  home/'  said  the  basket-maker's  wife,  pulling 
her  husband  away.  '  £  You  are  getting  no  good  by  hearing 
this  talk." 

The  by-standers  laughed,  and  the  baker  exclaimed 

'  £  It  is  high  time  I  should  be  in  the  Necropolis  before  it 
gets  dark,  and  see  to  the  tables  being  laid  for  to-morrow's 
festival.  My  trucks  are  close  to  the  narrow  entrance  to 
the  valley.  Send  your  little  ones  to  me,  and  I  will  give 
them  something  nice.    Are  you  coming  over  with  me  ?  " 

"  My  younger  brother  is  gone  over  with  the  goods," 
replied  the  shoemaker.  "We  have  plenty  to  do  still  for 
the  customers  in  Thebes,  and  here  am  I  standing  gossip- 
ing. Will  the  wonderful  heart  of  the  sacred  ram  be  ex- 
hibited to-morrow,  do  you  know  ?  M 

"  Of  course — no  doubt,"  said  the  baker;  "good-bye, 
there  go  my  cases  ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Notwithstanding  the  advanced  hour  hundreds  of  people 
were  crossing  over  to  the  Necropolis  at  the  same  time  as 
the  baker.  They  were  permitted  to  linger  late  on  into 
the  evening,  under  the  inspection  of  the  watch,  because  it 
was  the  eve  of  the  great  feast,  and  they  had  to  set  out 
their  counters  and  awnings,  to  pitch  their  tents,  and  to 
spread  out  their  wares  ;  for  as  soon  as  the  sun  rose  next 
day  all  business  traffic  would  be  stopped,  none  but  festal 
barges  might  cross  from  Thebes,  or  such  boats  as  ferried 
over  pilgrims — men,  women,  and  children,  whether  na- 
tives or  foreigners,  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  great  pro- 
cession. 

In  the  halls  and  work-rooms  of  the  House  of  Seti  there 
was  unusual  stir.  The  great  miracle  of  the  wonderful 
heart  had  left  but  a  short  time  for  the  preparations  for  the 
festival.  Here  a  chorus  was  being  practiced,  then  on  the 
sacred  lake*  a  scenic  representation  was  being  rehearsed  ; 

*  Every  temple  had  its  sagred  lake  or  tank,  and  Herodotus  speaks  of 

18 


274  UARDA. 

here  the  statues  of  the  gods  were  being  cleaned  and 
dressed,*  and  the  colors  of  the  sacred  emblems  were  being 
revived,  there  the  panther-skins  and  other  parts  of  the 
ceremonial  vestments  of  the  priests  were  being  aired  and 
set  out ;  here  scepters,  censers  and  other  metal-vessels  were 
being  cleaned,  and  there  the  sacred  bark  which  was  to  be 
carried  in  the  procession  was  being  decorated.  In  the 
sacred  groves  of  the  temple  the  school-boys,  under  the 
direction  of  the  gardeners,  wove  garlands  and  wreaths  to. 
decorate  the  landing-places,  the  sphinxes,  the  temple,  and 
the  statues  of  the  gods.  Flags  were  hoisted  on  the  brass- 
tipped  masts  in  front  of  the  pylon,  and  purple  sails  were 
spread  to  give  shadow  to  the  court. 

The  inspector  of  sacrifices  was  already  receiving  at  a 
side  door  the  cattle,  corn  and  fruit  offerings  which  were 
brought  as  tribute  to  the  House  of  Seti,  by  citizens  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  on  the  occasion  of  the  festival  of 
the  Valley,  and  he  was  assisted  by  scribes,  who  kept  an 
account  of  all  that  was  brought  in  by  the  able-bodied 
temple-servants  and  laboring  serfs. 

Ameni  was  everywhere  ;  now  with  the  singers,  now  with 
the  magicians,  who  were  to  effect  wonderful  transforma- 
tions before  the  astonished  multitude  ;  now  with  the  work- 
men, who  were  erecting  thrones  for  the  regent,  the  emis- 
saries from  other  collegiate  foundations— even  from  so  far 
as  the  Delta— and  the  prophets  from  Thebes  ;  now  with 
the  priests,  who  were  preparing  the  incense,  now  with  the 
servants,  who  were  trimming  the  thousand  lamps  for  the 
illumination  at  night— in  short  everywhere  ;  here  inciting, 
there  praising.  When  he  had  convinced  himself  that  all 
was  going  on  well  he  desired  one  of  the  priests  to  call 
Pentaur. 

After  the  departure  of  the  exiled  Prince  Ramen,  the 

the  representations  he  saw  at  night  on  the  sacred  lake  of  Neith  at  Sais. 
"  They  call  them  mysteries,"  he  says,  "  and,  though  I  know  much  about 
them,  I  will  be  silent  out  of  reverence."  The  myths  of  Isis,  Osiris  and 
Seth-Typhon  were  represented.  , 

*The  Stolistes  had  the  duty  of  dressing  the  figures  of  the  goas,  and 
on  some  of  the  reliefs  there  are  still  little  hooks  on  which  the  drapery 
was  hung.  The  dressing  and  undressing  of  the  holy  images  was  con- 
ducted in  strict  accordance  with  a  prescribed  ritual.  The  inscriptions  in 
the  seven  sanctuaries  of  Abydos,  published  by  Manette,  are  full  of  in- 
struction as  to  these  ordinances,  which  were  significant  in  every  detail. 


UARDA. 


*75 


young  priest  had  gone  to  the  work-room  of  his  friend 
Nebsecht. 

The  leech  went  uneasily  from  his  phials  to  his  cages,  and 
from  his  cages  back  to  his  flasks.  While  he  told  Pentaur 
of  the  state  he  had  found  his  room  in  on  his  return  home, 
he  wandered  about  in  feverish  excitement,  unable  to  keep 
still,  now  kicking  over  a  bundle  of  plants,  now  thumping 
down  his  fist  on  the  table ;  his  favorite  birds  were  starved 
to  death,  his  snakes  had  escaped,  and  his  ape  had  followed 
their  example,  apparently  in  his  fear  of  them. 

"The  brute,  the  monster  !  "  cried  Nebsecht,  in  a  rage. 
"  He  lias  thrown  over  the  jars  with  the  beetles  in  them, 
opened  the  chest  of  meal  that  I  feed  the  birds  and  insects 
upon,  and  rolled  about  in  it  ;  he  has  thrown  my  knives, 
prickers,  and  forceps,  my  pins,  compasses,  and  reed-pens 
all  out  of  the  window  ;  and  when  I  came  in  he  was  sitting 
on  the  cupboard  up  there,  looking  just  like  a  black  slave 
that  works  night  and  day  in  a  corn-mill  ;  he  had  got  hold 
of  the  roll  which  contained  all  my  observations  on  the 
structure  of  animals— the  result  of  years  of  study — and  was 
looking  at  it  gravely  with  his  head  on  one  side.  I  wanted 
to  take  the  book  from  him,  but  he  fled  with  the  roll,  sprang 
out  of  window,  let  himself  down  to  the  edge  of  the  well, 
and  tore  and  rubbed  the  manuscript  to  pieces  in  a  rage. 
I  leaped  out  after  him,  but  he  jumped  into  the  bucket, 
took  hold  of  the  chain,  and  let  himself  down,  grinning  at 
me  in  mockery,  and  when  I  drew  him  up  again  he  jumped 
into  the  water  with  the  remains  of  the  book.  '7 

"And  the  poor  wretch  is  drowned?  "  asked  Pentaur. 

"  I  fished  him  up  with  the  bucket,  and  laid  him  to  dry 
in  the  sun  ;  but  he  had  been  tasting  all  sorts  of  medicines, 
and  he  died  at  noon.  My  observations  are  gone  !  Some 
of  them  certainly  are  still  left :  however,  I  must  begin 
again  at  the  beginning.  You  see  apes  object  as  much  to 
my  labors  as  sages  ;  there  lies  the  beast  on  the  shelf." 

Pentaur  had  laughed  at  his  friend'  story,  and  then 
lamented  his  loss  ;  but  now  he  said  anxiously  : 

He  is  lying  there  on  the  shelf  ?  But  you  forget  that  he 
ought  to  have  been  kept  in  the  little  oratory  of  Toth,  near 
the  library.     He  belongs  to  the  sacred  dog-faced  apes,* 

*  The  dog-faced  baboon,  Kynokephalos,  was  sacred  to  Toth  as  the 
Moon-god.    Mummies  of  the  seapes  have  been  found  at  Thebes  and 


276 


UARDA. 


and  all  the  sacred  marks  were  found  upon  him.  The 
librarian  gave  him  into  your  charge  to  have  his  bad  eye 
cured/' 

''That  was  quite  well,"  answered  Nebsecht,  carelessly. 

"  But  they  will  require  the  uninjured  corpse  of  you,  to 
embalm  it,"  said  Pentaur. 

"Will  they  ? "  muttered  Nebsecht ;  and  he  looked  at  his 
friend  like  a  boy  who  is  asked  for  an  apple  that  has  long 
been  eaten. 

"And  you  have  already  been  doing  something  with  it," 
said  Pentaur,  in  a  tone  of  friendly  vexation. 

The  leech  nodded.  "I  have  opened  him,  and  exam- 
ined his  heart." 

"You  are  as  much  set  on  hearts  as  a  coquette  !  "  said 
Pentaur.  "  What  is  become  of  the  human  heart  that  the 
old  paraschites  was  to  get  for  you  ?  " 

Nebsecht  related  without  reserve  what  the  old  man  had 
done  for  him,  and  said  that  he  had  investigated  the 
human  heart,  and  had  found  nothing  in  it  different  from 
what  he  had  discovered  in  the  heart  of  beasts. 

"  But  I  must  see  it  in  connection  with  the  other  organs 
of  the  human  body,  "  cried  he  ;  "  and  my  decision  is  made. 
I  shall  leave  the  House  of  Seti,  and  ask  the  kolchytes  to 
take  me  into  their  guild.  If  it  is  necessary  I  will  first  per- 
form the  duties  of  the  lowest  paraschites. " 

Pentaur  pointed  out  to  the  leech  what  a  bad  exchange 
he  would  be  making,  and  at  last  exclaimed,  when  Nebsecht 
eagerly  contradicted  him  :  "This  dissecting  of  the  heart 
does  not  please  me.  You  say  yourself  that  you  learned 
nothing  by  it.  Do  you  still  think  it  a  right  thing,  a  fine 
thing — or  simply  useless  ?  " 

"I  do  not  trouble  myself  about  it,"  replied  Nebsecht. 
"Whether  my  observations  seem  good  or  evil,  right  or 
heinous,  useful  or  useless,  I  want  to  know  how  things  are, 
nothing  more." 

"And  so  for  mere  curiosity,"  cried  Pentaur,  "you 
would  endanger  the  blissful  future  of  thousands  of  your 
fellow-men,  take  upon  yourself  the  most  abject  duties,  and 

Hermopolis,  and  they  are  often  represented  as  reading  with  much 
gravity.  Statues  of  them  have  been  found  in  great  quantities,  and  there 
is  a  particularly  lifelike  picture  of  a  Kynokephalos  in  relief  on  the  left 
wall  of  the  library  of  the  temple  of  Isis  at  Philoe. 


UARDA. 


277 


leave  this  noble  scene  of  your  labors,  where  we  all  strive 
for  enlightenment,  for  inward  knowledge  and  truth." 

The  naturalist  laughed  scornfully  ;  the  veins  swelled 
angrily  in  Pentaur's  forehead,  and  his  voice  took  a  threat- 
ening tone  as  he  asked  : 

'  And  do  you  believe  that  your  fingers  and  your  eyes 
have  lighted  on  the  truth,  when  the  noblest  souls  have 
striven  in  vain  for  thousands  of  years  to  find  it  out  ? 
You  descend  beneath  the  level  of  human  understanding  by 
madly  wallowing  in  the  mire  ;  and  the  more  clearly  you  are 
convinced  that  you  have  seized  the  truth,  the  more  utterly 
are  you  involved  in  the  toils  of  a  miserable  delusion." 

"  If  I  believed  I  knew  the  truth  should  I  so  eagerly  seek 
it  ?  "  asked  Nebsecht.  ' '  The  more  I  observe  and  learn,  the 
more  deeply  I  feel  my  want  of  knowledge  and  power." 

"  That  sounds  modest  enough,"  said  the  poet,  "but  I 
know  the  arrogance  to  which  your  labors  are  leading  you. 
Everything  that  you  see  with  your  own  eyes  and  touch 
with  you  own  hand,  you  think  infallible,  and  everything 
that  escapes  your  observation  you  secretly  regard  as  un- 
true, and  pass  by  with  a  smile  of  superiority.  But  you 
cannot  carry  your  experiments  beyond  the  external  world, 
and  you  forget  that  there  are  things  which  lie  in  a  differ- 
ent realm." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  those  things,"  answered  Nebsecht, 
quietly. 

"But  we — the  initiated,"  cried  Pentaur,  "turn  our  at- 
tention to  them  also.  Thoughts — traditions — as  to  their 
conditions  and  agency  have  existed  among  us  for  a  thou- 
sand years  ;  hundreds  of  generations  of  men  have  examined 
these  traditions,  have  approved  them,  and  have  handed 
them  down  to  us.  All  our  knowledge,  it  is  true,  is  de- 
fective, and  yet  prophets  have  been  favored  with  the  gift 
of  looking  into  the  future  ;  magic  powers  have  been 
vouchsafed  to  mortals.  All  this  is  contrary  to  the  laws  of 
the  external  world,  which  are  all  that  you  recognize,  and 
yet  it  can  easily  be  explained  if  we  accept  the  idea  of  a 
higher  order  of  things.  The  spirit  of  the  divinity  dwells 
in  each  of  us,  as  in  nature.  The  natural  man  can  only 
attain  to  such  knowledge  as  is  common  to  all  ;  but  it  is 
the  divine  capacity  for  serene  discernment — which  is  om- 
niscience— that  works  in  the  seer  ;  it  is  the  divine  andun- 


UARDA. 


278 

limited  power — which  is  omnipotence — that  from  time 
to  time  enables  the  magician  to  produce  supernatural 

effects  !  " 

"Away  with  prophets  and  marvels  !  "  cried  Nebsecht. 

"I  should  have  thought,"  said  Pentaur,  "that  even  the 
laws  of  nature  which  you  recognize  presented  the  greatest 
marvels  daily  to  your  eyes  ;  nay  the  Supreme  One,  does 
not  disdain  sometimes  to  break  through  the  common  order 
of  things,  in  order  to  reveal  to  that  portion  of  Himself 
which  we  call  our  soul,  the  sublime  Whole  of  which  we 
form  part— Himself.  Only  to  day  you  have  seen  how  the 
heart  of  the  sacred  ram  " 

<<  Man,  man  !  "  Nebsecht  interrupted,  "the sacred  heart 
is  the  heart  of  a  hapless  sheep  that  a  sot  of  a  soldier  sold 
for  a  trifle  to  a  haggling  grazier,  and  that  was  slaughtered 
in  a  common  herd.  A  worthy  paraschites  put  it  into  the 
body  of  Rui,  and— and— "  he  opened  the  cupboard,  threw 
the  carcass  of  the  ape  and  some  clothes  on  to  the  floor, 
and  took  out  an  alabaster  bowl  which  he  held  before  the 
poet— "  the  muscles  you  see  here  in  brine,  this  machine, 
once  beat  in  the  breast  of  the  prophet  Rui.  My  sheep's 
heart  will  be  carried  to-morrow  in  the  procession  !  I 
would  have  told  you  all  about  it  if  I  had  not  promised  the 
old  man  to  hold  my  tongue,  and  then  But  what  ails  you, 

man  ? "  .      .  , 

Pentaur  had  turned  away  from  his  friend,  and  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands,  and  he  groaned  as  if  he  were  suf- 
fering some  frightful  physical  pain. 

Nebsecht  divined  what  was  passing  in  the  mind  of  his 
friend.  Like  a  child  that  has  to  ask  forgiveness  of  its 
mother  for  some  misdeed,  he  went  close  up  to  Pentaur,  but 
stood  trembling  behind  him,  not  daring  to  speak  to  hum 

Several  minutes  passed.  Suddenly  Pentaur  raised  his 
head,  lifted  his  hands  to  heaven  ;  and  cried  : 

«  O  Thou  !  the  One  !—  though  stars  may  fall  from  the 
heavens  in  summer  nights,  still  Thy  eternal  and  immu- 
table laws  guide  the  never-resting*  planets  in  their  paths. 
Thou  pure  and  all-pervading  Spirit,  that  dwellest  in  me, 
as  I  know  by  my  horror  of  a  lie,  manifest  Thyself  in  me— 
as  light  when  I  think,  as  mercy  when  I  act,  and  when  I 
speak,  as  truth— always  as  truth  !  " 

*  In  the  sacred  writings  the  planets  are  called  "  the  Never-resting." 


UARDA.  279 


The  poet  spoke  these  words  with  absorbed  fervor,  and 
Nebsecht  heard  them  as  if  they  were  speech  from  some 
distant  and  beautiful  world.  He  went  affectionately  up  to 
his  friend,  and  eagerly  held  out  his  hand.  Pentaur  grasped 
it,  pressed  it  warmly,  and  said: 

«  That  was  a  fearful  moment !    You  do  not  know  what 
Ameni  has  been  to  me,  and  now,  now  1" 

He  hardly  had  ceased  speaking  when  steps  were  heard 
approaching  the  physician's  room,  and  a  young  priest  re- 
quested the  friends  to  appear  at  once  in  the  meeting-room 
of  the  Initiated.  In  a  few  moments  they  both  entered 
the  great  hall,  which  was  brilliantly  lighted. 

Not  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  House  of  Seti  was  absent 
Ameni  sat  on  a  raised  seat  at  a  long  table  ;  on  his  right 
hand  was  old  Gagabu,  on  his  left  the  third  prophet  of  the 
temple  The  principals  of  the  different  orders  of  priests 
had  also  found  places  at  the  table,  and  among  them  the 
chief  of  the  haruspices,  while  the  rest  of  the  priests,  all  in 
snow-white  linen  robes,  sat,  with  much  dignity,  in  a  large 
semicircle,  two  rows  deep.  In  the  midst  stood  a  statue  of 
the  goddess  of  Truth  and  Justice.  ,      ,  .  , 

Behind  Ameni's  throne  was  the  many-colored  image  o 
the  ibis-headed  Toth,  who  presided  over  the  measure  and 
method  of  things,  who  counseled  the  gods  as  well  as  men 
and  presided  over  learning  and  the  arts.  In  a  niche  at 
the  further  end  of  the  hall  were  painted  the  divine  Triad  ot 
Thebes  with  Rameses  I.  and  his  son  Seti,  who  approached 
them  with  offerings.  The  priests  were  placed  with  strict 
regard  to  their  rank,  and  the  order  of  initiation.  Pentaur  s 
was  the  lowest  place  of  all. 

No  discussion  of  any  importance  had  as  yet  taken  place, 
for  Ameni  was  making  inquiries,  receiving  information, 
and  giving  orders  with  reference  to  the  next  day  s  festival. 
All  seemed  to  be  well  arranged,  and  promised  a  magniti- 
cent  solemnity ;  although  the  scribes  complained  ol  the 
scarce  influx  of  beasts  from  the  peasants,  who  were  so 
heavily  taxed  for  the  war  ;  and  although  that  feature  would 
be  wanting  in  the  procession  which  was  wont  to  give  it  the 
greatest  splendor— the  presence  of  the  king  and  the  royal 

fa  Thfs  circumstance  aroused  the  disapprobation  of  some  of 
the  priests,  who  were  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  hazardous 


280 


UARDA. 


to  exclude  the  two  children  of  Rameses,  who  remained  in 
Thebes,  from  any  share  in  the  solemnities  of  the  feast. 
Ameni  then  rose. 

"We  have  sent  the  boy  Rameri,"  he  said,  "  away  from 
this  house.  Bent-Anat  must  be  purged  of  her  uncleanness, 
and  if  the  weak  superior  of  the  temple  of  Amon  absolves 
her,  she  may  pass  for  purified  over  there,  where  they  live 
for  this  world  only,  but  not  here,  where  it  is  our  duty  to 
prepare  the  soul  for  death.  The  regent,  a  descendant  of 
the  great  deposed  race  of  kings,  will  appear  in  the  proces- 
sion with  all  the  splendor  of  his  rank.  I  see  you  are  sur- 
prised, my  friends.  Only  he  !  Ay  !  Great  things  are 
stirring,  and  it  may  happen  that  soon  the  mild  sun  of 
peace  may  rise  upon  our  war-ridden  people. 

"Miracles  are  happening/'  he  continued,  /k'and  in  a 
dream  I  saw  a  gentle  and  pious  man  on  the  throne  of  the 
earthly  vicar  of  Ra.  He  listened  to  our  counsel,  he  gave 
us  our  due,  and  led  back  to  bur  fields  our  serfs  that  had 
been  sent  to  the  war  ;  he  overthrew  the  altars  of  the  strange 
gods,  and  drove  the  unclean  stranger  out  from  this  holy 
land." 

"The  Regent  Ani  !  "  exclaimed  Septah. 
An  eager  movement  stirred  the  assembly,  but  Ameni 
went  on  : 

"Perhaps  it  was  not  unlike  him,  but  he  certainly  was 
the  One ;  he  had  the  features  of  the  true  and  legitimate 
descendants  of  Ra,  to  whom  Rui  was  faithful,  in  whose 
breast  the  heart  of  the  sacred  ram  found  a  refuge.  To- 
morrow this  pledge  of  the  divine  grace  shall  be  shown  to 
the  people,  and  another  mercy  will  also  be  announced  to 
them.  Hear  and  praise  the  dispensations  of  the  Most 
High  !  An  hour  ago  I  received  the  news  that  a  new  Apis, 
with  all  the  sacred  marks  upon  him,  has  been  found  in 
the  herds  of  Ani  at  Hermonthis." 

Fresh  excitement  was  shown  by  the  listening  conclave. 
Ameni  let  their  astonishment  express  itself  freely,  but  at 
last  he  exclaimed  : 

"And  now  to  settle  the  last  question.  The  priest  Pen- 
taur,  who  is  now  present,  has  been  appointed  speaker  at 
the  festival  to-morrow.  He  has  erred  greatly,  yet  I  think 
we  need  not  judge  him  till  after  the  holy  day,  and,  in 
consideration  of  his  former  innocence,  need  not  deprive 


UARDA. 


him  of  the  honorable  office.  Do  you  share  my  wishes  ? 
Is  there  no  dissentient  voice?  Then  come  forward,  you, 
the  youngest  of  us  all,  who  are  so  highly  trusted  by  this 
holy  assembly." 

Pentaur  rose  and  placed  himself  opposite  to  Ameni  in 
order  to  give,  as  he  was  required  to  do,  a  broad  outline  of 
the  speech  he  proposed  to  deliver  next  day  to  the  nobles 
and  the  people. 

The  whole  assembly,  even  his  opponents,  listened  to 
him  with  approbation.  Ameni,  too,  praised  him,  but 
added  : 

"I  miss  only  one  thing  on  which  you  must  dwell  at 
greater  length,  and  treat  with  warmer  feeling — I  mean 
the  miracle  which  has  stirred  our  souls  to-day.  We  must 
show  that  the  gods  brought  the  sacred  heart  " 

"  Allow  me/'  said  Pentaur,  interrupting  the  high-priest, 
and  looking  earnestly  into  those  eyes  which  long  since  he 
had  sung  of,  "  allow  me  to  entreat  you  not  to  select  me  to 
declare  this  new  marvel  to  the  people." 

Astonishment  was  stamped  on  the  face  of  every  mem- 
ber of  the  assembly.  Each  looked  at  his  neighbor,  then 
at  Pentaur,  and  at  last  inquiringly  at  Ameni.  The  superior 
knew  Pentaur,  and  saw  that  no  mere  whimsical  fancy, 
but  some  serious  motive,  had  given  rise  to  this  refusal. 
Horror,  almost  aversion,  had  rung  in  his  tone  as  he  said 
the  words  4 'new  marvel." 

He  doubted  the  genuineness  of  this  divine  manifesta- 
tion. 

Ameni  gazed  long  and  inquiringly  into  Pentaur's  eyes, 
and  then  said  :  4 'You  are  right,  my  friend.  Before  judg- 
ment has  been  passed  on  you,  before  you  are  reinstated 
in  your  old  position,  your  lips  are  not  worthy  to  announce 
this  divine  wonder  to  the  multitude.  Look  into  your  own 
soul,  and  teach  the  devout  a  horror  of  sin,  and  show  them 
the  way,  which  you  must  now  tread,  of  purification  of  the 
heart.    I  myself  will  announce  the  miracle." 

The  white-robed  audience  hailed  this  decision  of  their 
master  with  satisfaction.  Ameni  enjoined  this  thing  on 
one,  on  another,  that  ;  and  on  all,  perfect  silence  as  to  the 
dream  which  he  had  related  to  them,  and  then  he  dis- 
solved the  meeting.  He  begged  only  Gagabu  and  Pentaur 
to  remain. 


2g2  UARI)A- 


As  soon  as  they  were  alone  Ameni  asked  the  poet 
-Why  did  you  refuse  to  announce  to  the  people  the 
miracle  which  has  filled  all  the  priests  of  the  Necropolis 

^eJause  thou  hast  taught  me/' replied  Pen taur;  "  that 
truth  is  the  highest  aim  we  can  have,  and  that  there  is 

^"tfll1  ySfso  again  now,"  said  Ameni.  «  And  as  you 
recognize  this  doctrine,  I  ask  you,  in  the  name  of  the  fair 
daughter  of  Ra,  Do  you  doubt  the  genuineness  of  the 
miracle  that  took  place  under  our  very  eyes? 

"  I  doubt  it,"  replied  Pen taur.  .     „  .. 

<  •  Remain  on  the  high  stand-point  of  veracity,  continued 
Ameni,  "and  tell  us  further,  that  we  may  learn,  what  are 
the  scruples  that  shake  your  faith  ? " 

<<  I  know,"  replied  the  poet,  with  a  dark  expression 
-that  the  heart  which  the  crowd  will  approach  and 
bow  to,  before  which  even  the  Initiated  prostrate  them- 
selves as  if  it  had  been  the  incarnation  or  Ra,  was 
torn  from  the  bleeding  carcass  of  a  common  sheep  and 
smuggled  into  the  kanopus  which  contained  the  entrails 

°f  Ameni  drew  back  a  step,  and  Gagabu  cried  out :  "  Who 
says  soF  Who  can  prove  it?  As  I  grow  older  I  hear 
more  and  more  frightful  things  !  "  rannot 

"I  know  it,"  said  Pentaur,  decidedly.  "Bjrtl  cannot 
reveal  the  name  of  him  from  whom  I  learned  it. 

"Then  we  may  believe  that  you  are  mistaken,  and  that 
some  impostor  is  fooling  you  We  will  inquire  who  has 
devised  such  a  trick,  and  he  shall  be  punished  To  scorn 
the  voice  of  the  Divinity  is  a  sin,  and  he  who  lends  his 
ear  to  a  lie  is  far  from  the"  truth.  Sacred  and  thrice  sacred 
is  the  heart,  blind  fool,  that  I  purpose  to-morrow  to^how 
to  the  people,  and  before  which  you  yourself— if  not  with 
good  Jill  then  by  compulsion-shall  fall,  prostrate  in  the 

dU"Go  now  and  reflect  on  the  words  with  which  you  will 
stir  the  souls  of  the  people  to-morrow  morning  ;  but  know 
one  thing-Truth  has  many  forms,  and  her  aspects  are  as 
SSSFm  those  of  the  Godhead  As  the  sun  doe, .not 
travel  over  a  level  plain  or  by  a  straight  path-as  the  stars 
Slow  a  circuitous  course,  which  we  compare  with  the 


UARDA.  283 

windings  of  the  snake  Mehen*-so  the  elect,  who  look 
out  over  time  and  space,  and  on  whom  the  conduct  ot 
human  life  devolves,  are  not  only  permitted,  but  com- 
manded, to  follow  indirect  ways  in  order  to  reach  the 
highest  aims,  ways  that  you  do  not  understand,  and  which 
vou  may  fancy  deviate  widely  from  the  path  of  truth.  You 
look  only  at  to-day,  we  look  forward  to  to-morrow,  and 
what  we  announce  as  truth  you  must  needs  believe  And 
mark  my  words  :  A  lie  stains  the  soul,  but  doubt  eats  into 

^  Ameni  had  spoken  with  strong  excitement ;  when  Pen- 
taur had  left  the  room,  and  he  was  alone  with  Gagabu,  he 
exclaim ed  * 

-  What  things  are  these  ?  Who  is  ruining  the  innocent 
child-like  spirit  of  this  highly  favored  youth  ? "  % 

-He  is  ruining  himself,"  replied  Gagabu.  He  is 
putting  aside  the  old  law,  for  he  feels  a  new  one  growing 
up  in  his  own  breast." 

"  But  the  laws,"  exclaimed  Ameni,  "grow  and  spread 
like  shadowy  woods  ;  they  are  made  by  no  one.  I  loved 
the  poet,  yet  I  must  restrain  him,  else  he  will  break  down 
all  barriers,  like  the  Nile  when  it  swells  too  high.  And 
what  he  says  of  the  miracle  ' 

"  Did  you  devise  it  ?  " 

"  By  the  Holy  One— no  !  "  cried  Ameni.  , 

"  And  yet  Pentaur  is  sincere,  and  inclined  to  faith,  said 

the  old  man,  doubtfully.  ,  , 

"  I  know  it,"  returned  Ameni.     "  It  happened  as  he 

said.    But  who  did  it,  and  who  told  him  of  the  shameful 

deed  ^ 

Both  the  priests  stood  thoughtfully  gazing  at  the  floor. 

Ameni  first  broke  the  silence.  : 

"  Pentaur  came  in  with  Nebsecht,"  he  exclaimed,  and 

they  are  intimate  friends,^   Where  was  the  leech  while  I 

was  staying  in  Thebes  ?  " 

*The  snake  Mehen  (termed  in  the  texts  proceeding  "from  what  is  in 
the  abyss  ")  is  frequently  represented  in  waves  and  curves,  symbolizing 
he  winding  course  of  the  sun  during  the  night,  in  the  underworld 
Mythological  figures  of  snakes  have  quite  as  often  a  benevolent  as  a 
malevolent  significance ;  snakes  were  kept  in  every  temple  and  mummies 
of  snakes  Dafticularly  of  Vipera  cerastes,  are  found  at  Thebes.  Plutarch 
says "rhc was  ^!eld  sacred  because  it  glides  along  without  limbs, 
like  the  stars. 


284  UARDA. 

"  He  was  taking  care  of  the  child  hurt  by  Bent-Anat— 
the  child  of  the  paraschites  Pinem,  and  he  stayed  there 
three  days,"  replied  Gagabu.  # 

-And  it  was  Pinem/'  said  Ameni,  < 1  that  opened  the 
body  of  Rui  !  It  was  that  inquisitive  stutterer,  and  he  shall 
be  made  to  repent  of  it.  For  the  present  let  us  think  of 
to-morrow's  feast,  but  the  day  after  I  will  ^examine  that 
nice  couple,  and  will  act  with  iron  severity." 

-First  let  us  examine  the  naturalist  in  private,  said 
Ga^abu  "  He  is  an  ornament  to  the  temple,  for  he  has 
investigated  many  matters,  and  his  dexterity  is  wonder- 
ful  " 

'"  All  that  may  be  considered  after  the  festival,"  Ameni 
said,  interrupting  the  old  man.  "We  have  enough  to 
think  of  at  present." 

"And  even  more  to  consider  later,  retorted  Gagabu. 
"We  have  entered  on  a  dangerous  path.  You  know  very 
well  I  am  still  hot-headed,  though  I  am  old  in  years,  and 
alas  '  timidity  was  never  my  weakness  ;  but  Rameses  is  a 
powerful  man,  and  duty  compels  me  to  ask  you,  is  it  mere 
hatred  for  the  king  that  has  led  you  to  take  these  hasty 
and  imprudent  steps  ?  "  ,  . 

"I  have  not  hatred  for  Rameses,  answered  Ameni, 
eravelv  "  If  he  did  not  wear  the  crown  I  could  love  him  ; 
I  know  him  too,  as  well  as  if  I  were  his  brother,  and  value 
all  that  is  great  in  him  ;  nay,  I  will  admit  that  he  is  dis- 
figured by  no  littleness.  If  I  did  not  know  how  strong  the 
enemy  is  we  might  try  to  overthrow  him  with  smaller 
means  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  he  is  our  enemy. 
Not  yours,  nor  mine,  nor  the  enemy  of  the  gods  ; ;  but  the 
enemy  of  the  old  and  reverend  ordinances  by  which  this 
people  and  this  country  must  be  governed,  and  above  all 
of  those  who  are  required  to  protect  the  wisdom  of  the 
fathers,  and  to  point  out  the  right  way  to  the  sovereign-- 
I  mean  the  priesthood,  whom  it  is  my  duty  to  lead,  and 
for  whose  rights  I  will  fight  with  every  weapon  of  the 
spirit  In  this  contest,  as  you  know,  all  that  otherwise 
would  be  falsehood,  treachery,  and  cunning,  puts  on  the 
bricrht  aspect  of  light  and  truth.  As  the  physician  needs 
the  knife  and  fire  to  heal  the  sick,  we  must  do  fearful  things 
to  save  the  community  when  it  is  in  danger.  Now  you 
will  see  me  fight  with  every  weapon,  for  if  we  remain  idle 


UARDA. 


285 


we  shall  soon  cease  to  be  the  leaders  of  the  state,  and 
become  the  slaves  of  the  king." 

Gagabu  nodded  assent,  but  Ameni  went  on  with  increas- 
ing warmth,  and  in  that  rhythmical  accent  in  which, 
when  he  came  out  of  the  holy  of  holies,  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  declare  the  will  of  the  Divinity  :  "  You  were 
my  teacher,  and  I  value  you,  and  so  you  now  shall  be  told 
everything  that  stirred  my  soul,  and  made  me  first 
resolve  upon  this  fearful  struggle.  I  was,  as  you  know, 
brought  up  in  this  temple  with  Rameses— and  it  was  very 
wise  of  Seti  to  let  his  son  grow  up  here  with  other  boys. 
At  work  and  at  play  the  heir  to  the  throne^  and  I  won 
every  prize.  He  was  quite  my  superior  in  swift  apprehen- 
sion—in keen  perception — but  I  had  greater  caution,  and 
deeper  purpose.  Often  he  laughed  at  my  laborious  efforts, 
but  his  brilliant  powers  appeared  to  me  a  vain  delusion. 
I  became  one  of  the  initiated,  he  ruled  the  state  in  part- 
nership with  his  father,  and,  when  Seti  died,  by  himself. 
We  both  grew  older,  but  the  foundation  of  our  characters 
remained  the  same.  He  rushed  to  splendid  victories, 
overthrew  nations,  and  raised  the  glory  of  the  Egyptian 
name  to  a  giddy  height,  though  stained  with  the  blood  of 
his  people  ;  I  passed  my  life  in  industry  and  labor,  in 
teaching  the  young,  and  in  guarding  the  laws  which  regu- 
late -  the  intercourse  of  men  and  bind  the  people  to  the 
Divinity.  I  compared  the  present  with  the  past  :  What 
were  the  priests  ?  How  had  they  come  to  be  what  they 
are  ?  What  would  Egypt  be  without  them  ?  There  is  not 
an  art,  not  a  science,  not  a  faculty  that  is  not  thought 
out,  constructed,  and  practiced  by  us.  We  crown  the 
kings,  we  named  the  gods,  and  taught  the  people  to  honor 
them  as  divine — for  the  crown  needs  a  hand  to  lead  it,  and 
under  which  it  shall  tremble  as  under  the  mighty  hand 
of  fate.  We  are  the  willing  ministers  of  the  divine  repre- 
sentative of  Ra  on  the  throne,  so  long  as  he  rules  in  ac- 
cordance with  our  institutions — as  the  One  God  reigns, 
subject  to  eternal  laws.  He  used  to  choose  his  counselors 
from  among  us  ;  we  told  him  what  would  benefit  the  coun- 
try, he  heard  us  willingly,  and  executed  our  plans.  The 
old  kings  were  the  hands,  but  we,  the  priests,  were  the 
head.  And  now,  my  father,  what  has  become  of  us  ?  We 
are  made  use  of  to  keep  the  people  in  the  faith,  for  if  they 


286  UARDA. 

cease  to  honor  the  gods  how  will  they  submit  to  kings  ? 
Set!  ventured  much,  his  son  risks  still  more,  and  therefore 
both  have  required  much  succor  from  the  immortals. 
Rameses  is  pious,  he  sacrifices  frequently,  and  loves  prayer  ; 
we  are  necessary  to  him,  to  waft  incense,  to  slaughter 
hecatombs,  to  offer  prayers  and  to  interpret  dreams-but 
we  are  no  longer  his  advisers.    My  father  now  in  Osiris, 
a  worthier  high-priest  than  I,  was  charged  by  the  prophets 
to  entreat  bis  father  to  give  up  the  guilty  project  of  con- 
necting the  north  sea  by  a  navigable  channel  with  the 
unclean  waters  of  the  Red  Sea.*    Such  things  can  only 
benefit  the  Asiatics.    But  Seti  would  not  listen  to  our 
counsel.    We  desired  to  preserve  the  old  division  of  the 
land    but  Rameses  introduced  the  new  to  the  disad- 
vantage of  the  priests  ;  we  warned  him  against  fresh  wars 
and  the  king  again  and  again  has  taken  the  field  ;  we  had 
the  ancient  sacred  documents  which  exempted  our  peas- 
ants from  military  service,  and,  as  you  know,  he  outrage- 
ously defies  them.    From  the  most  ancient  times  no  one 
has  been  permitted  to  raise  temples  in  this  land  to  strange 
eods   and  Rameses  favors  the  son  of  the  stranger,  and 
not  only  in  the  north  country,  but  in  the  reverend  city  of 
Memphis  and  here  in  Thebes,  he  has  raised  altars  and 
magnificent  sanctuaries,  in  the  strangers  quarter,  to  the 
sane-uinarvt  false  gods  of  the  East."  ,    "  . 

"gYou  speak  like  a  Seer,"  cried  old  Gagabu  "  and  what 
vou  say  is  perfectly  true.  We  are  still  called  priests,  but 
alas  !  our  counsel  is  little  asked.  '  You  have  to  prepare 
men  for  a  happy  lot  in  the  other  world,  Rameses  once 
said  ;  '  I  alone  can  guide  their  destinies  in  this 

"He  did  say  so,"  answered  Ameni,  "and  if  he  had  said 
no  more  than  that  he  would  have  been  doomed.  He  and 
his  house  are  the  enemies  of  our  rights  and  of  our  noble 
country.  Need  I  tell  you  from  whom  the  race  of  the 
Pharaoh  is  descended  ?  Formerly  the  hosts  who  came  from 
the  east,  and  fell  on  our  land  like  swarms  of  locusts,  rob- 

Phoenicians,  were  very  early  abolished, 


UARDA. 


287 


bing  and  destroying  it,  were  spoken  of  as  '  a  curse  '  and  a 
'pest/  Rameses'  father  was  of  that  race.  When  Ani's 
ancestors  expelled  the  Hvksos,  the 'bold  chief,  whose  chil- 
dren now  govern  Egypt,  obtained  the  favor  of  being 
allowed  to  remain  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile  ;  they  served 
in  the  armies,  they  distinguished  themselves,  and,  at  last, 
the  first  Rameses  succeeded  in  gaining  the  troops  over  to 
himself,  and  in  pushing  the  old  race  of  the  legitimate  sons 
of  Ra,  weakened  as  they  were  by  heresy,  from  the  throne. 
I  must  confess,  however  unwillingly,  that  some  priests  of 
the  true  faith— among  them  your  grandfather  and  mine- 
supported  the  daring  usurper  who  clung  faithfully  to  the 
old  traditions.  Not  less  than  a  hundred  generations  of  my 
ancestors,  and  of  yours,  and  of  many  other  priestly  families, 
have  lived  and  died  here  by  the  banks  of  the  Nile— of 
Rameses'  race  we  have  seen  ten,  and  only  know  of  them 
that  they  descend  from  strangers,  from  the  caste  of  Amu  ! 
He  is  like  all  the  Semitic  race  ;  they  love  to  wander,  they 
call  us  plowmen,*  and  laugh  to  scorn  the  sober  regularity 
with  which  we,  tilling  the  dark  soil,  live  through  our  lives 
to  a  tardy  death,  in  honest  labor  both  of  mind  and  body. 
They  sweep  round  on  foraying  excursions,  ride  the  salt 
waves  in  ships,  and  know  no  loved  and  fixed  home  ;  they 
settle  down  wherever  they  are  tempted  by  rapine,  and 
when  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  got  they  build  a  house 
in  another  spot.  Such  was  Seti,  such  is  Rameses  !  For  a 
year  he  will  stop  in  Thebes,  then  he  must  set  out  for  wars 
in  strange  lands.  He  does  not  know  how  to  yield  piously, 
or  to  take  advice  of  wise  counselors,  and  he  will  not 
learn.  And  such  as  the  father  is,  so  are  the  children  ! 
Think  of  the  criminal  behavior  of  Bent-Anat  ! 

"  I  said  the  kings  liked  foreigners.  Have  you  duly  con- 
sidered the  importance  of  that  to  us  ?  We  strive  for  high 
and  noble  aims,  and  have  wrenched  off  the  shackles  of  the 
flesh  in  order  to  guard  our  souls.  The  poorest  man  lives 
secure  under  the  shelter  of  the  law,  and  through  us  par- 
ticipates in  the  gifts  of  the  spirit ;  to  the  rich  are  offered 
the  priceless  treasures  of  art  and  learning.  Now  look 
abroad,  east  and  west  wandering  tribes  roam  over  the 
desert  with  wretched  tents  ;  in  the  south  a  debased  popu- 


*  The  word  Fellah  (pi.  Fellahin)  means  plowman. 


UARDa. 


lace  prays  to  feathers,  and  to  abject  idols,  who  are  beaten 
f  the  worshiper  is  not  satisfied.  In  the  north  certainly 
here  aTe  3-regulated  states,  but  the  best  part  of  the 
arL  and  sciences  which  they  possess  they  owe  to  us,  and 
their  Stars  wUl  reek  with  the  loathsome  sacrifice  o  human 
heir  altars  win  re  right  is  possible  under 

Sfstan^andSerefore  it  is  prudent  to  withdraw  from 
htn    t"  e/efore  he  is  hateful  to  our  gods     And  Rarneses 

intellect  is     He  will  listen  to  no  guidance,  he  does  mis 
chS  to  Egypt,  and  therefore  I  say  :  Down  with  him  from 

*  < 'Down  with  him  !  "  Gagabu  eagerly  echoed  fce  warda. 
Ameni  gave  the  old  man  his  hand  which  trembled  with 
excitement,  and  went  on  more  calmly. 

<<TV,p  Rep-ent  Ani  is  a  legitimate  child  ot  tne  son,  vy 
his  father  arfc I  mother  both.S  I  know  him  well,  and  I 

be?un  1    Now  you  know  all,  and  you  w,ll  second  me. 

^SE^SS  £  E£  S'«neGo^e„  "  said  A™  j 
nrenarhie  to  go.     "The  initiated  may  a    guess  what  is 
fZg  on,  but  It  must  never  be  spoken  of." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

*The  twenty-ninth  Phaophi.  ™e  Egfto S^S^ 
Sa^^rA^I^^  -responds  to  the 
eighth  of  November. 


UARDA. 


289 


slaves,  led  by  priests,  did  homage  to  the  rising  day-star 
before  the  door  of  the  temple  to  which  the  quarter  of  the 
town  belonged  where  each  one  dwelt. 

The  Thebans  stood  together  like  huge  families  before 
the  pylons,  waiting  for  the  processions  of  priests,  which 
they  intended  to  join  in  order  to  march  in  their  train 
round  the  great  temple  of  the  city,  and  thence  to  cross 
with  the  festal  barks  to  the  Necropolis. 

To-day  was  the  feast  of  the  Valley,  and  Anion,  the 
great  God  of  Thebes,  was  carried  over  in  solemn  pomp  to 
the  City  of  the  Dead,  in  order  that  he— as  the  priests  said — 
might  sacrifice  to  his  fathers  in  the  other  world.  The 
train  marched  westward ;  for  there,  where  the  earthly 
remains  of  man  also  found  rest,  the  millions  of  suns  had 
disappeared,  each  of  which  was  succeeded  daily  by  a  new 
one,  born  of  the  night.  The  young  luminary,  the  priests 
said,  did  not  forget  those  that  had  been  extinguished,  and 
from  whom  he  was  descended  ;  and  Amon  paid  them  this 
mark  of  respect  to  warn  the  devout  not  to  forget  those 
who  were  passed  away,  and  to  whom  they  owed  their 
existence. 

" Bring  offerings,"  says  a  pious  text,  "to  thy  father 
and  thy  mother  who  rest  in  the  valley  of  the  tombs  ;  for 
he  who  gives  these  offerings  is  as  acceptable  to  the  gods 
as  if  they  were  brought  to  themselves.  Often  visit  thy 
dead,  so  that  what  thou  dost  for  them,  thy  son  may  do 
for  thee."  * 

The  feast  of  the  Valley  was  a  feast  of  the  dead  ;  but  it 
was  not  a  melancholy  solemnity,  observed  with  lamenta- 
tion and  wailing ;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  a  cheerful 
festival,  devoted  to  pious  and  sentimental  memories  of 
those  whom  we  cease  not  to  love  after  death,  whom  we 
esteem  happy  and  blessed,  and  of  whom  we  think  with 
affection  ;  to  whom  too  the  throng  from  Thebes  brought 
offerings,  forming  groups  in  the  chapel-like  tombs,  or  in 
front  of  the  graves,  to  eat  and  drink. 

Father,  mother  and  children  clung  together  ;  the  house- 
slaves  followed  with  provisions,  and  with  torches,  which 

*  From  the  Papyrus  IV.,  at  Bulaq.,  which  contains  moral  precepts.  It 
has  been  published  by  Mariette,  and  translated  by  Brugsch,  E.  de 
Rouge,  and  lastly  treated  with  admirable  analysis  by  Chabas,  in  1' Egypt- 
ologie. 

19 


290 


UARDA> 


would  light  up  the  darkness  of  the  tomb  and  show  the 
way  home  at  night. 

Even  the  poorest  had  taken  care  to  secure  beforehand  a 
place  in  one  of  the  large  boats  which  conveyed  the  people 
across  the  stream  ;  the  barges  of  the  rich,  dressed  in  the 
gayest  colors,  awaited  their  owners  with  their  households, 
and  the  children  had  dreamed  all  night  of  the  sacred  bark 
of  Amon,  whose  splendor,  as  their  mothers  told  them,  was 
hardly  less  than  that  of  the  golden  boat  in  which  the  Sun- 
god  and  his  companions  make  their  daily  voyage  across 
the  ocean  of  heaven.  The  broad  landing-place  of  the 
temple  of  Amon  was  already  crowded  with  priests,  the 
shore  with  citizens,  and  the  river  with  boats  ;  already  loud 
music  drowned  the  din  of  the  crowds,  who  thronged  and 
pushed,  enveloped  in  clouds  of  dust,  to  reach  the  boats  ; 
the  houses  and  hovels  of  Thebes  were  all  empty,  and  the 
advent  of  the  god  through  the  temple  gates  was  eagerly 
expected ;  but  still  the  members  of  the  royal  family  had 
not  appeared,  who  were  wont  on  this  solemn  day  to  go 
on  foot  to  the  great  temple  of  Amon  ;  and,  in  the  crowd, 
many  a  one  asked  his  neighbor  why  Bent-Anat,  the  fair 
daughter  of  Rameses,  lingered  so  long,  and  delayed  the 
starting  of  the  procession. 

The  priests  had  begun  their  chant  within  the  walls, 
which  debarred  the  outer  world  from  any  glimpse  into  the 
bright  precincts  of  the  temple;  the  regent  with  his  brill- 
iant train  had  entered  the  sanctuary ;  the  gates  were 
thrown  open  ;  the  youths  in  their  short  aprons,  who  threw 
flowers  in  the  path  of  the  god,  had  come  out ;  clouds  of 
incense  announced  the  approach  of  Amon — and  still  the 
daughter  of  Rameses  appeared  not. 

Many  rumors  were  afloat,  most  of  them  contradictory  ; 
but  one  was  accurate,  and  confirmed  by  the  temple  serv- 
ants, to  the  great  regret  of  the  crowd — Bent-Anat  was 
excluded  from  the  feast  of  the  Valley. 

She  stood  on  her  balcony  with  her  brother  Rameii  and 
her  friend  Nefert,  and  looked  down  on  the  river,  and  on 
the  approaching  god. 

Early  in  the  previous  morning  Bek-en-Chunsu,  the  old 
high-priest  of  the  temple  of  Amon,  had  pronounced  her 
clean,  but  in  the  evening  he  had  come  to  communicate  to 
her  the  intelligence  that  Ameni  prohibited  her  entering 


UARDA. 


291 


the  Necropolis  before  she  had  obtained  the  forgiveness  of 
the  gods  of  the  West  for  her  offence. 

While  still  under  the  ban  of  uncleanness  she  had  visited 
the  temple  of  Hathor,  and  had  defiled  it  by  her  presence  ; 
and  the  stern  superior  of  the  City  of  the  Dead  was  in  the 
right — that  Bek-en-Chunsu  himself  admitted — in  closing 
the  western  shore  against  her.  Bent-Anat  then  had  re- 
course to  Ani  ;  but,  although  he  promised  to  mediate  for 
her,  he  came  late  in  the  evening  to  tell  her  that  Ameni 
was  inexorable.  The  regent  at  the  same  time,  with  every 
appearance  of  regret,  advised  her  to  avoid  an  open  quar- 
rel, and  not  to  defy  Ameni's  lofty  severity,  but  to  remain 
absent  from  the  festival. 

Katuti  at  the  same  time  sent  the  dwarf  to  Nefert  to  de- 
sire her  to  join  her  mother,  in  taking  part  in  the  proces- 
sion, and  in  sacrificing  in  her  father's  tomb  ;  but  Nefert 
replied  that  she  neither  could  nor  would  leave  her  royal 
friend  and  mistress. 

Bent-Anat  had  given  leave  of  absence  to  the  highest 
members  of  her  household,  and  had  prayed  them  to  think 
of  her  at  the  splendid  solemnity. 

When,  from  her  balcony,  she  saw  the  mob  of  people  and 
the  crowd  of  boats,  she  went  back  into  her  room,  called 
Rameri,  who  was  angrily  declaiming  at  what  he  called 
Ameni's  insolence,  took  his  hands  in  hers  and  said  : 

"  We  have  both  done  wrong,  brother;  let  us  patiently 
submit  to  the  consequences  of  our  faults,  and  conduct 
ourselves  as  if  our  father  were  with  us." 

"He  would  tear  the  panther-skin  from  the  haughty 
priest  s  shoulders,  "cried  Rameri,  "if  he  dared  to  humili- 
ate you  so  in  his  presence  ;  "  and  tears  of  rage  ran  down 
his  smooth  cheeks  as  he  spoke. 

"Put  anger  aside,"  said  Bent  Anat.  "  You  were  still 
quite  little  the  last  time  my  father  took  part  in  this 
festival." 

"Oh!  I  remember  that  morning  well,"  exclaimed 
Rameri,  "and  shall  never  forget  it." 

"  So  I  should  think,"  said  the  princess.  "  Do  not  leave 
us,  Nefert — you  are  now  my  sister.  It  was  a  glorious 
morning  ;  we  children  were  collected  in  the  great  hall  of 
the  king,  all  in  festival  dresses  ;  he  had  us  called  into  this 
room,  which  had  been  inhabited  by  my  mother,  who  then 


292 


UARDA. 


had  been  dead  only  a  few  months.  He  took  each  of  us  by 
the  hand,  and  said  he  forgave  us  everything  we  might 
have  done  wrong  if  only  we  were  sincerely  penitent,  and 
gave  us  each  a  kiss  on  our  forehead.  Then  he  beckoned 
us  all  to  him,  and  said,  as  humbly  as  if  he  were  one  of  us 
instead  of  the  great  king,  '  Perhaps  I  may  have  done  one 
of  you  some  injustice,  or  have  kept  you  out  of  some  right ; 
I  am  not  conscious  of  such  a  thing,  but  if  it  has  occurred 
I  am  very  sorry ' — we  all  rushed  upon  him,  and  wanted  to 
kiss  him,  but  he  put  us  aside  smiling,  and  said,  '  Each  of 
you  has  enjoyed  an  equal  share  of  one  thing,  that  you  may 
be  sure — I  mean  your  father's  love  ;  and  I  see  now  that 
you  return  what  I  have  given  you/  Then  he  spoke  of  our 
mother,  and  said  that  even  the  tenderest  father  could  not 
fill  the  place  of  a  mother.  He  drew  a  lovely  picture  of 
the  unselfish  devotion  of  the  dead  mother,  and  desired  us 
to  pray  and  to  sacrifice  with  him  at  her  resting-place,  and 
to  resolve  to  be  worthy  of  her  ;  not  only  in  great  things 
but  in  trifles  too,  for  they  make  up  the  sum  of  life,  as 
hours  make  the  days,  and  the  years.  We  elder  ones 
clasped  each  other  s  hands,  and  I  never  felt  happier  than 
in  that  moment,  and  afterward  by  my  mother's  grave." 

Nefert  raised  her  eyes  that  were' wet  with  tears. 

"  With  such  a  father  it  must  be  easy  to  be  good,"  she 
said. 

"Did  your  mother  never  speak  good  words  that  went 
to  your  heart  on  the  morning  of  this  festival  ?  "  asked 
Bent-Anat. 

Nefert  colored,  and  answered  :  "We  were  always  late 
in  dressing  and  then  had  to  hurry  to  be  at  the  temple  in 
time." 

"Then  let  me  be  your  mother  to-day,"  cried  the  prin- 
cess, ' '  and  yours  too,  Rameri.  Do  you  not  remember  how 
my  father  offered  forgiveness  to  the  officers  of  the  court, 
and  to  all  the  servants,  and  how  he  enjoined  us  to  root  out 
every  grudge  from  our  hearts  on  this  day  ?  *  Only  stainless 
garments/  he  said,  'befit  this  feast ;  only  hearts  without 
spot/  So,  brother,  I  will  not  hear  an  evil  word  about 
Ameni,  who  is  most  likely  forced  to  be  severe  by  the  law  ; 
my  father  will  inquire  into  it  all  and  decide.  My  heart  is 
so  full  it  must  overflow.  Come,  Nefert,  give  me  a  kiss, 
and  you  too,  Rameri.    Now  I  will  go  into  my  little  temple. 


UARDA. 


293 


in  which  the  images  of  our  ancestors  stand,  and  think  of 
my  mother  and  the  blessed  spirits  of  those  loved  ones  to 
whom  I  may  not  sacrifice  to-day." 
"I  will  go  with  you/'  said  Rameri. 

"  You,  Nefert,  stay  here/'  said  Bent-Anat,  "  and  cut  as 
many  flowers  as  you  like  ;  take  the  best  and  finest,  and 
make  a  wreath,  and  when  it  is  ready  we  will  send  a  mes- 
senger across  to  lay  it,  with  other  gifts,  on  the  grave  of 
your  Mena's  mother." 

When,  half  an  hour  later,  the  brother  and  sister  returned 
to  the  young  wife,  two  graceful  garlands  hung  in  Nefert's 
hands,  one  for  the  grave  of  the  dead  queen  and  one  for 
Mena's  mother. 

"I  will  carry  over  the  wreaths  and  lay  them  on  the 
tombs,"  cried  the  prince. 

"Ani  thought  it  would  be  better  that  we  should  not 
show  ourselves  to  the  people,"  said  his  sister.  "They 
will  scarcely  notice  that  you  are  not  among  the  school- 
boys, but  " 

"But  I  will  not  go  over  as  the  king's  son,  but  as  a  gar- 
dener's boy,"  interrupted  the  prince.  "Listen  to  the 
flourish  of  trumpets  !  the  god  has  now  passed  through 
the  gates. " 

Rameri  stepped  out  into  the  balcony,  and  the  two  women 
followed  him  and  looked  down  on  the  scene  of  the  em- 
barkation, which  they  could  easily  see  with  their  sharp 
young  eyes. 

"It  will  be  a  thinner  and  poorer  procession*  without 
either  my  father  or  us,  that  is  one  comfort, "  said  Rameri, 
"The  chorus  is  magnificent  ;  here  come  the  plume-bearers 
and  singers  ;  there  is  the  chief  prophet  of  the  great  temple, 
old  Bek-en-Chunsu.  How  dignified  he  looks  ;  but  he  will 
not  like  going.  Now  the  god  is  coming,  for  I  smell  the 
incense." 

With  these  words  the  prince  fell  on  his  knees  and  the 
women  followed  his  example — when  they  saw  first  a  noble 
bull  in  whose  shining  skin  the  sun  was  reflected,  and  who 
bore  between  his  horns  a  golden  disk,  above  which  stood 
white  ostrich-feathers  ;  and  then,  divided  from  the  bull 
only  by  a  few  fan-bearers,  the  god  himself,  sometimes 

*  I  have  been  guided  in  my  description  of  the  procession  by  the  rep- 
resentation of  the  feast  of  the  Steps  at  Medinet  Abu. 

I 


294 


UARDA. 


visible,  but  more  often  hidden  from  sight  by  great  semicir- 
cular screens  of  black  and  white  ostrich-feathers,  which 
were  fixed  on  long  poles,  and  with  which  the  priests 
shaded  the  god. 

His  mode  of  progress  was  as  mysterious  as  his  name, 
for  he  seemed  to  float  slowly  on  his  gorgeous  throne  from 
the  temple  gates  toward  the  stream.  His  seat  was  placed 
on  a  platform  magnificently  decorated  with  bunches  and 
garlands  of  flowers,  and  covered  with  hangings  of  purple 
and  gold  brocade,  which  concealed  the  priests  who  bore 
it  along  with  a  slow  and  even  pace. 

As  soon  as  the  god  had  been  placed  on  board  his  barge, 
Bent-Anat  and  her  companions  rose  from  their  knees. 

Then  came  some  priests,  who  carried  a  box  with  the 
sacred  evergreen  tree  of  Amon  ;  and  when  a  fresh  out- 
burst of  music  fell  on  her  ear,  and  a  cloud  of  incense  was 
wafted  up  to  her,  Bent-Anat  said  :  ' '  Now  my  father  should 
be  coming." 

"  And  you, "  cried  Rameri,  "  and  close  behind  Nefert 's 
husband,  Mena,  with  the  guards.  Uncle  Ani  comes  on 
foot.  How  strangely  he  has  dressed  himself  like  a  sphinx 
hind-part  before  !  " 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  Nefert. 

"A  sphinx,"  said  Rameri,  laughing,  "  has  the  body 
of  a  lion,  and  the  head  of  a  man,*  and  my  uncle  has  a 
peaceful  priest's  robe,  and  on  his  head  the  helmet  of  a 
warrior. " 

"If  the  king  were  here,  the  distributor  of  life,"  said 
Nefert,  "you  would  not  be  missing  from  among  his  sup- 
porters. " 

"  No  indeed  !  "  replied  the  prince,  "  and  the  whole  thing 
is  altogether  different  when  my  father  is  here.  His  heroic 
form  is  splendid  on  his  golden  throne ;  the  statues  of 
Truth  and  Justice  spread  their  wings  behind  him  as  if  to 
protect  him  ;  his  mighty  representative  in  fight,  the  lion, 
lies  peacefully  before  him,  and  over  him  spreads  the  can- 
opy with  the  Uraeus  snake  at  the  top.  There  is  hardly 
any  end  to  the  haruspices,  the  pastophori  with  the  stand- 
ards, the  irhages  of  the  gods,  and  the  flocks  and  herds  for 
sacrifice.    Only  think,  even  from  the  north  they  would 

*  There  were  no  female  sphinxes  in  Egypt.  The  sphinx  was  called  Neb, 
/'.  e..  the  lord.    The  lion-couchant  had  either  a  man's  or  a  ram's  head. 


UARDA. 


have  sent  representatives  to  the  feast  if  my  father  had  but 
been  here.  I  know  all  the  different  signs  on  the  stand- 
ards.* Do  you  recognize  the  images  of  the  king's  ances- 
tors, Nefert  ?  No  ?  no  more  do  1 ;  but  it  seemed  to  me 
that  Ahmes  I.,  who  expelled  the  Hyksos — from  whom  our 
grandmother  was  descended — headed  the  procession,  and 
not  my  grandfather  Seti,  as  he  should  have  done.  Here 
come  the  soldiers ;  they  are  the  legions  which  Ani  equipped, 
and  who  returned  victorious  from  Ethiopia  only  last  night. 
How  the  people  cheer  them  !  and  indeed  they  have  be- 
haved valiantly.  Only  think,  Bent-Anat  and  Nefert,  what 
it  will  be  when  my  father  comes  home,  with  a  hundred 
captive  princes,  who  will  humbly  follow  his  chariot,  which 
your  Mena  will  drive,  with  our  brothers  and  all  the  nobles 
of  the  land,  and  the  guards  in  their  splendid  chariots. " 

"They  do  not  think  of  returning  yet !  "  sighed  Nefert. 

While  more  and  more  troops  of  the  regent's  soldiers, 
more  companies  of  musicians,  and  rare  animals,  f  followed 
in  procession,  the  festal  bark  of  Amon  started  from  the 
shore. 

It  was  a  large  and  gorgeous  barge  of  wood,  polished  all 
over  and  overlaid  with  gold,  and  its  edge  was  decorated 
with  glittering  glass  beads,  J  which  imitated  rubies  and 
emeralds  ;  the  masts  and  yards  were  gilt,  and  purple  sails 
floated  from  them.  The  seats  for  the  priests  were  of  ivory, 
and  garlands  of  lilies  and  roses  hung  round  the  vessel^ 
from  its  masts  and  ropes. 

The  regent's  Nile-boat  was  not  less  splendid  ;  the  wood- 
work shone  with  gilding,  the  cabin  was  furnished  with  gay 
Babylonian  carpets  ;  a  lion's-head  formed  the  prow,  as 
formerly  in  Hatasu's  sea-going  vessels,  and  two  large 

*  Every  Nomos  or  province  of  Egypt  had  its  heraldic  badge,  which  on 
solemn  occasions  was  carried  as  a  standard.  There  were  complete  lists  of 
the  forty-four  provinces  as  early  as  the  time  of  Seti  I.  Those  of  Phihe, 
Edfu  and  Dendera  give  many  interesting  details,  particularly  as  to  the 
religious  observances,  in  each  Nomos.  See  Harris,  Brugsch,  Dumichen 
and  J.  de  Rouge. 

t  A  great  number  of  foreign  beasts  were  introduced  in  a  procession 
under  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  which  is  graphically  described  by  Kallidenos, 
an  eye-witness.  The  Lagides  imitate  a  custom  which,  as  we  learn  from 
the  pictures  in  the  tomb  of  Rech  ma  Ra,  eighteenth  dynasty,  existed  in 
very  early  times. 

$  In  many  collections  are  imitations  of  precious  stones  which  can 
hardly  be  excelled  by  modern  workmanship. 


296 


UARDA. 


rubies  shone  in  it,  for,  eyes.  After  the  priests  had  em- 
barked, and  the  sacred  barge  had  reached  the^  opposite 
shore,  the  people  pressed  into  the  boats,  which,  filled 
almost  to  sinking,  soon  so  covered  the  whole  breadth  of 
the  river  that  there  was  hardly  a  spot  where  the  sun  was 
mirrored  in  the  yellow  waters. 

"Now  I  will  put  on  the  dress  of  a  gardener,"  cried 
Rameri,  "  and  cross  over  with  the  wreaths." 
"You  will  leave  us  alone  ?"  asked  Bent-Anat. 
"  Do  not  make  me  anxious,"  said  Rameri. 
"Go  then,"  said  the  princess.     "If  my  father  were 
here  how  willingly  I  would  go  too." 

"Come  with  me,"  cried  the  boy.  "We  can  easily  find 
a  disguise  for  you  too." 

"Folly!"  said  Bent-Anat  ;  but  she  looked  inquiringly 
at  Nefert,  who  shrugged  her  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say  : 
"  Your  will  is  my  law." 

Rameri  was  too  sharp  for  the  glances  of  the  friends  to 
have  escaped  him,  and  he  exclaimed,  eagerly  : 

"You  will  come  with  me,  I  see  you  will!  Every 
beggar  to-day  flings  his  flower  into  the  common  grave, 
which  contains  the  black  mummy  of  his  father— and  shall 
the  daughter  of  Rameses,  and  the  wife  of  the  chief  chariot- 
eer, be  excluded  from  bringing  garlands  to  their  dead  ?  " 

"I  shall  defile  the  tomb  by  my  presence,"  said  Bent- 
Anat,  coloring. 

"You— you!"  exclaimed  Rameri,  throwing  his  arms 
round  his  sisters  neck,  and  kissing  her.  "You,  a  noble 
generous  creature,  who  live  only  to  ease  sorrow  and  to 
wipe  away  tears  ;  you,  the  very  image  of  my  father— un- 
clean !  sooner  would  I  believe  that  the  swans  down  there 
are  black  as  crows,  and  the  rose-wreaths  on  the  balcony 
rank  hemlock  branches.'   Bek-en-Chunsu  pronounced  you 

clean,  and  if  Ameni  " 

"Ameni  only  exercises  his  rights,"  said  Bent-Anat, 
gently,  "  and  you  know  what  we  have  resolved.  I  will 
not  hear  one  hard  word  about  him  to-day." 

"Very  well  !  he  has  graciously  and  mercifully  kept  us 
from  the  feast,"  said  Rameri,  ironically,  and  he  bowed  low 
in  the  direction  of  the  Necropolis,  "and  you  are  unclean. 
Do  not  enter  the  tombs  and  the  temples  on  my  account  ; 
let  us  stay  outside  among  the  people.    The  roads  over 


UARDA. 


297 


there  are  not  so  very  sensitive ;  paraschites  and  other  un- 
clean folks  pass  over  them  every  day.  Be  sensible,  Bent- 
Anat,  and  come.  We  will  disguise  ourselves  ;  I  will 
conduct  you  ;  I  will  lay  the  garlands  in  the  tombs,  wewill 
pray  together  outside,  we  will  see  the  sacred  procession 
and  the  feats  of  the  magicians,  and  hear  the  festive  dis- 
course. Only  think  !  Pentaur,  in  spite  of  all  they  have 
said  against  him,  is  to  deliver  it.  The  temple  of  Seti 
wants  to  do  its  best  to-day,  and  Ameni  knows  very  well 
that  Pentaur,  when  he  opens  his  'mouth,  stirs  the  hearts  of 
the  people  more  than  all  the  sages  together  if  they  were  to 
sing  in  chorus  !    Come  with  me,  sister." 

"So  be  it  then,"  said  Bent-Anat,  with  sudden  decision. 

Rameri  was  surprised  at  this  quick  resolve,  at  which 
however  he  was  delighted  ;  but  Nefert  looked  anxiously 
at  her  friend.  In  a  moment  her  eyes  fell ;  she  knew  now 
who  it  was  that  her  friend  loved,  and  the  fearful  thought 
— "  How  will  it  end  !  "  flashed  through  her  mind. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

An  hour  later,  a  tall,  plainly-dressed  woman  crossed  the 
Nile,  with  a  dark-skinned  boy  and  a  slender  youth  by  her 
side.  The  wrinkles  on  her  brow  and  cheeks  agreed  little 
with  her  youthful  features  ;  but  it  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  recognize  in  these  three  the  proud  princess,  the 
fair  young  prince,  and  the  graceful  Nefert,  who  looked  as 
charming  as  ever  in  the  long  white  robe  of  a  temple- 
student. 

They  were  followed  by  two  faithful  and  sturdy  head- 
servants  from  among  the  litter-bearers  of  the  princess,  who 
were  however  commanded  to  appear  as  though  they  were 
not  in  any  way  connected  with  their  mistress  and  her 
companions. 

The  passage  across  the  Nile  had  been  accomplished  but 
slowly,  and  thus  the  royal  personages  had  experienced  for 
the  first  time  some  of  the  many  difficulties  and  delays 
which  ordinary  mortals  must  conquer  to  attain  objects 


298  •  UARDA. 

which  almost  fly  to  meet  their  rulers.  No  one  preceded 
them  to  clear  the  river,  no  other  vessel  made  way  for 
them  •  on  the  contrary,  all  tried  to  take  place  ahead  of 
them,'  and  to  reach  the  opposite  shore  before  them 

When  at  last  they  reached  the  landing-place,  the  pro- 
cession had  already  passed  on  to  the  temple  ofSeti ; 
Ameni  had  met  it  with  his  chorus  of  singers,  and  had 
received  the  god  on  the  shore  of  the  Nile;  the  prophets  of 
Xe  Necropolis  had  with  their  own  hands  placed  him  in 
the  sacred  Sambark*  of  the  House  of  Seta,  which  was 
artistically  constructed  of  cedar-wood  and  electrum  set 
with  jewels;  thirty  pastophori  took  the  precious  burden 
on  their  shoulders,  and  bore  it  up  the  avenue  of  Sphmxes 
—which  led  from  the  river  to  the  temple— into  the  sanct- 
uary of  Seti,  where  Amon  remained  while  the  emissaries 
from  the  different  provinces  deposited  their  offerings ,m  the 
forecourt.  On  his  road  from  the  shore  kolchytes  had  run 
before  him,  in  accordance  with  an  ancient  custom,  strew- 
ing-  sand  in  his  path.  . 

In  the  course  of  an  hour  the.  procession  once  more 
emerged  into  the  open  air,  and  turning  to  the  south,  rested 
first  in  the  enormous  temple  of  Amenophis  III  in  front 
of  which  the  two  giant  statues  stood  as  sentmels-they 
still  remain,  the  colossi  of  the  Nile  valley.  Further  to  the 
south  it  reached  the  temple  of  Thotmes  the  Great,  t  then 
turning  round,  it  clung  to  the  eastern  face  of  the  Libyan 
hills— merced  with  tombs  and  catacombs  ;  it  mounted  the 
te  races  o the  temple  of  Hatasu,  and  paused  by  the  tombs 
of  the  oldest  kingsP which  are  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood  thus  by  sunset  it  had  reached  the  scene  of  the  festi- 
val itsef  at  the  entrance  of  the  valley  in  which  the  tomb 
ofSeti  had  been  made,  and  in  whose  westernmost  recesses 
were  some  of  the  graves  of  the  Pharaohs  of  the  deposed 


race 


This  part  of  the  Necropolis  was  usually  visited  by  lamp- 
light, and  under  the  flare  of  torches,  before  the  return  of 

*  The  sacred  vessel  of  the  god  is  so  called  in  a  picture  still  extant  at 
splendid  work  in  folio. 


UARDA* 


the  god  to  his  own  temple  and  the  mystery-play  on  the 
sacred  lake,  which  did  not  begin  till  midnight. 

Behind  the  god  in  a  vase  of  transparent  crystal,  and  borne 
high  on  a  pole  that  all  the  multitude  might  see  it,  was  the 
heart  of  the  sacred  ram. 

Our  friends,  after  they  had  laid  their  wreaths  on  the 
magnificent  altars  of  their  royal  ancestors  without  being 
recognized,  late  in  the  afternoon  joined  the  throng  who 
followed  the  procession.  They  mounted  the  eastern  cliff 
of  the  hills  close  by  the  tomb  of  Menas  forefathers,  which 
a  prophet  of  Amon,  named  Neferhotep— Mena's  great- 
grandfather had  constructed.  Its  narrow  doorway  was 
besieged  by  a  crowd,  for  within  the  first  of  the  rock- 
chambers  of  which  it  consisted,  a  harper  was  singing  a 
dirge  for  the  long-since  buried  prophet,  his  wife  and  his 
sister.  The  song  had  been  composed  by  the  poet  attached 
to  his  house  ;  it  was  graven  in  the  stone  of  the  second  rock- 
room  of  the  tomb,  and  Neferhotep  had  left  a  plot  of 
ground  in  trust  to  the  Necropolis,  with  the  charge  of  ad- 
ministering its  revenues  for  the  payment  of  a  minstrel, 
who  every  year  at  the  feast  of  the  dead  should  sing  the 
monody  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  lute.* 

The  charioteer  well  knew  this  dirge,  for  his  ancestor  and 
he  had  often  sung  it  to  Nefert,  who  had  accompanied  him 
on  her  lute  ;  for  in  their  hours  of  joy  also— nay  especially 
—the  Egyptians  were  wont  to  remember  their  dead. 

Now  the  three  companions  listened  to  the  minstrel  as  he 
sang  : 

Now  the  great  man  is  at  rest, 
Gone  to  practice  sweeter  duties. 

Those  that  die  are  the  elect 

Since  the  gods  have  left  the  earth. 

Old  men  pass  and  young  men  come ; 

Yea,  a  new  sun  rises  daily 

When  the  old  sun  has  found  rest 

In  the  bosom  of  the  night. 

Hail,  O  Prophet,  on  this  feast  day 
Odorous  balsams,  fragrant  resins 

Here  we  bring — and  offer  garlands, 

Throwing  flowers  down  before  thee, 

And  before  thy  much-loved  sister, 

Who  has  found  her  rest  beside  thee. 


*The  tomb  of  Neferhotep  is  well  preserved,  and  in  it  the  inscription 
om  which  this  monody  is  translated. 


3oo 


HARD  A. 


Songs  we  sing,  and  strike  the  lyre 
To  thy  memory,  and  thine  honor. 
All  our  cares  are  now  forgotten, 
Joy  and  hope  our  breasts  are  filling  ; 
For  the  day  of  our  departure  ^ 
Now  draws  near,  and  in  the  silence 
Of  the  farther  shore  is  rest. 


When  the  song  ceased  several  people  pressed  into  the 
little  oratory  to  express  their  gratitude  to  the  deceased 
prophet  by  laying  a  few  flowers  on  his 'altar.  Nefert  and 
Rameri  also  went  in,  and  when  Nefert  had  offered  a  long 
and  silent  prayer  to  the  glorified  spirit  of  her  dead,  that 
they  might  watch  over  Mena,  she  laid  her  garland  beside 
the  grave  in  which  her  husband's  mother  rested. 

Many  members  of  the  court  circle  passed  close  to  the 
royal  party  without  recognizing  them  they  made  every 
effort  to  reach  the  scene  of  the  festival,  but  the  crowd  was 
so  great  that  the  ladies  had  several  times  to  get  into  a 
tomb  to  avoid  it.  In  each  they  found  the  altar  loaded 
with  offerings,  and,  in  most  family-parties,  who  here  re- 
membered their  dead  with  meat  and  fruits,  beer  and  wine, 
as  though  they  were  departed  travelers  who  had  found 
some  far-off  rest,  and  whom  they  hoped  sooner  or  later  to 
see  again.  ,  , 

The  sun  was  near  setting  when  at  last  the  princess  and 
her  companions  reached  the  spot  where  the  feast  was  being 
held.  Here  stood  numbers  of  stalls  and  booths,  with 
eatables  of  every  sort,  particularly  sweet  cakes  for  the 
children,  dates,  figs,  pomegranates  and  other  fruits 
Under  light  awnings,  which  kept  off  the  sun,  were  sold 
sandals  and  kerchiefs  of  every  material  and  hue,  orna- 
ments amulets,  fans  and  sun-shades,  sweet  essences  ot 
every  kind,  and  other  gifts  for  offerings  or  for  the  toilet. 
The  baskets  of  the  gardeners  and  flower-girls  were  already 
empty  but 'the  money-changers  were  full  of  business 
and  the  tavern  and  gambling  booths  were  driving  a  brisk 

Vriends  and  acquaintances  greeted  each  other  kindly, 
while  the  children  showed  each  other  their  new  sandals, 
the  cakes  they  had  won  at  the  games,  or  the  little  copper 
rings  they  had  had  given  to  them,  and  which  must  now 
be  laid  out.    The  largest  crowd  was  gathered  to  see 


UARDA. 


301 


the  magicians  from  the  House  of  Seti,  round  which 
the  mob  squatted  on  the  ground  in  a  compact  circle, 
and  the  children  were  good-naturedly  placed  in  the  front 
row. 

When  Bent-Anat  reached  the  place  all  the  religious  so- 
lemnity was  ended. 

There  stood  the  canopy  under  which  the  king  and  his 
family  were  used  to  listen  to  the  festal  discourse,  and  under 
its  shade  sat  to-day  the  Regent  Ani.  They  could  see,  too, 
the  seats  of  the  grandees,  and  the  barriers  which  kept  the 
people  at  a  distance  from  the  regent,  the  priests,  and  the 
nobles. 

Here  Ameni  himself  had  announced  to  the  multitude 
the  miracle  of  the  sacred  heart,  and  had  proclaimed  that  a 
new  Apis  had  been  found  among  the  herds  of  the  Regent 
Ani. 

His  announcement  of  these  divine  tokens  had  been  re- 
peated from  mouth  to  mouth  ;  they  were  omens  of  peace 
and  happiness  for  the  country  through  the  means  of  a 
favorite  of  the  gods  ;  and  though  no  one  said  it,  the  dull- 
est could  not  fail  to  see  that  this  favorite  was  none  other 
than  Ani,  the  descendant  of  the  great  Hatasu,  whose 
prophet  had  been  graced  by  the  transfer  to  him  of  the 
heart  of  the  sacred  ram.  All  eyes  were  fixed  on  Ani, 
who  had  sacrificed  before  all  the  people  to  the  sacred 
heart  and  received  the  high-priest's  blessing. 

Pentaur,  too,  had  ended  his  discourse  when  Bent-Anat 
reached  the  scene  of  the  festival.  She  heard  an  old  man 
say  to  his  son  : 

"  Life  is  hard.  It  often  seems  to  me  like  a  heavy  burden 
laid  on  our  poor  backs  by  the  cruel  gods  ;  but  when  I 
heard  the  young  priest  from  the  House  of  Seti  I  felt  that 
after  all,  the  immortals  are  good,  and  we  have  much  to 
thank  them  for." 

In  another  place  a  priest's  wife  said  to  her  son  : 

"Could  you  see  Pentaur  well,  Hor-Uza?  He  is  of  hum- 
ble birth,  but  he  stands  above  the  greatest  in  genius  and 
gifts,  and  will  rise  to  high  things." 

Two  girls  were  speaking  together,  and  one  said  to  the 
other  : 

"The  speaker  is  the  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw,  and 
his  voice  sounds  like  soft  music." 


302 


UARDA. 


"And  how  his  eyes  shone  when  he  spoke  of  truth  as 
the  highest  of  all  virtues  !  "  replied  the  other.  ''All  the 
gods,  I  believe,  must  dwell  in  him." 

Bent-Anat  colored  as  these  words  fell  on  her  ear.  It 
was  growing  dark,  and  she  ^wished  to  return  home ;  but 
Rameri  wished  to  follow  the  procession  as  it  marched 
through  the  western  valley  by  torchlight,  so  that  the 
grave  of  his  grandfather  Seti  should  also  be  visited.  The 
princess  unwillingly  yielded,  but  it  would  in  any  case 
have  been  difficult  to  reach  the  river  while  every  one  was 
rushing  in  the  opposite  direction  ;  so  the  two  ladies,  and 
Rameri,  let  themselves  be  carried  along  by  the  crowd,  and 
by  the  time  the  daylight  was  gone,  they  found  themselves 
in  the  western  valley,  where  to-night  no  beasts  of  prey  dared 
show  themselves  ;  jackals  and  hyenas  had  fled  before  the 
glare  of  the  torches,  and  the  lanterns  made  of  colored 
papyrus. 

The  smoke  of  the  torches  mingled  with  the  dust  stirred 
by  a  thousand  feet,  and  the  procession  moved  along,  as  it 
were,  in  a  cloud,  which  also  shrouded  the  multitude  that 
followed. 

The  three  companions  had  labored  on  as  far  as  the  hovel 
of  the  paraschites  Pinem,  but  here  they  were  forced  to 
pause,  for  guards  drove  back  the  crowd  to  the  right  and 
left  with  long  staves,  to  clear  a  passage  for  the  procession 
as  it  approached. 

"See,  Rameri, "  said  Bent-Anat,  pointing  out  the  little 
yard  of  the  hut  wThich  stood  only  a  few  paces  from  them. 
"That  is  where  the  fair  white  girl  lives,  whom  I  ran  over. 
But  she  is  much  better.  Turn  round  ;  there,  behind  the 
thorn-hedge,  by  the  little  fire  which  shines  full  in  your 
face — there  she  sits  with  her  grandfather." 

The  prince  stood  on  tiptoe,  looked  into  the  hum,ble  plot 
of  ground,  and  then  said  in  a  subdued  voice  : 

"What  a  lovely  creature  !  But  what  is  she  doing  with 
that  old  man  ?  He  seems  to  be  praying,  and  she  first  holds 
a  handkerchief  before  his  mouth,  and  then  rubs  his  temples. 
And  how  unhappy  she  looks  ! 

"The  paraschites  must  be  ill,"  replied  Bent-Anat. 

"  He  must  have  had  too  much  wine  down  at  the  feast/' 
said  Rameri,  laughing.    "  No  doubt  of  it  !    Only  look  how 


UARDA. 


his  lips  tremble,  and  his  eyes  roll.  It  is  hideous — he  looks 
like  one  possessed."  * 

"  He  is  unclean  too  !  "  said  Nefert. 

"But  he  is  a  good,  kind  man,  with  a  tender  heart," 
exclaimed  the  princess,  eagerly.  "  I  have  inquired  about 
him.  He  is  honest  and  sober,  and  I  am  sure  he  is  ill  and 
not  drunk." 

"Now  she  is  standing  up,"  said  Rameri,  and  he  dropped 
the  paper-lantern  which  he  had  bought  at  a  booth.  "Step 
back,  Bent-An  at,  she  must  be  expecting  some  one.  Did  you 
ever  see  any  one  so  very  fair,  and  with  such  a  pretty  little 
head.  Even  her  red  hair  becomes  her  wonderfully  ;  but 
she  staggers  as  she  stands — she  must  be  very  weak.  Now 
she  has  sat  down  again  by  the  old  man,  and  is  rubbing 
his  forehead.  Poor  souls  !  look  how  she  is  sobbing.  I  will 
throw  my  purse  over  to  them." 

"No,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Bent- An  at.  "I  gave  them  plenty 
of  money,  and  the  tears  which  they  shed  there  cannot  be 
stanched  with  gold.  I  will  send  old  Asnath  over  to-mor- 
row to  ask  how  we  can  help  them.  Look,  here  comes  the 
procession,  Nefert.  How  rudely  the  people  press  !  As 
soon  as  the  god  is  gone  by  we  will  go  home." 

"Pray  do,"  said  Nefert.  "I  am  so  frightened!"  and 
she  pressed  trembling  to  the  side  of  the  princess. 

"  I  wish  we  were  at  home,  too,"  replied  Bent-Anat. 

"Only  look  !  "  said  Rameri.  "  There  they  are.  Is  it 
not  splendid  ?  And  how  the  heart  shines  as  if  it  were  a 
star  !  " 

All  the  crowd,  and  with  them  our  three  friends,  fell  on 
their  knees. 

The  procession  paused  opposite  to  them,  as  it  did  at 
every  thousand  paces  ;  a  herald  came  forward,  and  glori- 
fied, in  a  loud  voice,  the  great  miracle,  to  which  now 
another  was  added — the  sacred  heart  since  the  night  had 
come  on  had  begun  to  give  out  light. 

Since  his  return  home  from  the  embalming  house,  the 

*  It  was  thought  that  the  insane  were  possessed  by  demons.  A  stele 
admirably  treated  by  E.  de  Rouge  exists  at  Paris,  which  relates  that  the 
sister-in-law  of  Ramesis  XII.,  who  was  possessed  by  devils,  had  them 
driven  out  by  the  statue  of  Chunsu,  which  was  sent  to  her  in 
Asia. 


3o4  UARDA. 


paraschites  had  taken  no  nourishment,  and  had  not 
answered  a  word  to  the  anxious  questions  of  the  two 
frightened  women.  Fie  stared  blindly,  muttered  a  few 
unintelligible  words,  and  often  clasped  his  forehead  in  his 
hand  A  few  hours  before  he  had  laughed  loud  and  sud- 
denly, and  his  wife,  greatly  alarmed,  had  gone  at  once  to 
fetch  the  physician  Nebsecht.  , 
During  her  absence  Uarda  was  to  rub  her  grandfathers 
temples  with  the  leaves  which  the  witch  Hekt  had  laid  on 
her  bruises,  for  as  they  had  once  proved  efficacious  they 
might  perhaps  a  second  time  scare  away  the  demon  of 
sickness. 

When  the  procession,  with  its  thousand  lamps  and 
torches,  paused  before  the  hovel,  which  was  almost  invisi- 
ble in  the  dusk,  and  one  citizen  said  to  another  :  '  Here 
comes  the  sacred  heart !  "  the  old  man  started,  and  stood 
up  His  eyes  stared  fixedly  at  the  gleaming  relic  in  its 
crystal  case  ;  slowly,  trembling  in  every  limb,  and  with 
outstretched  neck  he  stood  up. 

The  herald  began  his  eulogy  of  the  miracle. 

Then,  while  all  the  people  were  prostrate  in  adoration, 
listening  motionless  to  the  loud  voice  of  the  speaker  the 
paraschites  rushed  out  of  his  gate,  striking  his  forehead 
with  his  fists,  and  opposite  the  sacred  heart  he  broke  out 
into  a  mad,  loud  fit  of  scornful  laughter  which  re-echoed 
from  the  bare  cliffs  that  closed  in  the  valley. 

Horror  fell  on  the  crowd,  who  rose  timidly  from  their 
knees 

Ameni'  who  was  close  behind  the  heart,  started  too, 
and  looked  round  on  the  author  of  this  hideous  laugh. 
He  had  never  seen  the  paraschites,  but  he  perceived  the 
dimmer  of  his  little  fire  through  the  dust  and  gloom,  and 
he  knew  that  he  lived  in  this  place.  The  whole  case 
struck  him  at  once  ;  he  whispered  a  few  significant  words 
to  one  of  the  officers  who  marched  with  the  troops  on 
each  side  of  the  procession  ;  then  he  gave  the  signal, 
and  the  procession  moved  on  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 

P6The'  old  man  tried  with  still  more  loud  and  crazy 
laughter  to  reach  and  seize  the  heart,  but  the  crowd  kept 
hitn  back  ;  and  while  the  last  groups  passed  on  after  the 
priests,  he  contrived  to  slip  back  as  far  as  the  door  of  his 


UARDA. 


hovel  though  much  damaged  and  hurt.  There  he  fell 
whoY^     r,KShed  threW  he^lf  over  the  old  man; 

darkness  '  reco&nizable  in  the  dust  and 

"Crush  the  scoffer  I" 

' '  Tear  him  in  pieces  !  " 

"  Burn  down  the  foul  den  !  " 

"Throw  him  and  the  wench  into  the  fire  !  "shouted the 
Sfur^  bCen  diStUrb6d  in  thdr  devotions!  wiS 

Two  old  women  snatched  the  lanterns  from  the  posts 
and  flung  them  at  the  unfortunate  creatures,  whife  an 
Ethiopian  soldier  seized  Uarda  by  the  hair,  and  tore  her 
away  from  her  grandfather. 

PenSallT  ShTh"!  f^f*  ^  aPPeared,  and  with  her 
£entaur.  She  had  found  not  Nebsecht,  but  Pentaur  who 
had  returned  to  the  temple  after  his  speech  She  hid  told 
him  of  the  demon  who  had  fallen  upon  her  husband  and 
implored  him  to  come  with  her.  Pentaur  immediate  v 
Pu  tin'  onetVn  h|f7°rkin?dress>  just  as  he  was  whhold 

tr  S,0"  ^  WhUe  ,pnest  s  robe'  which  he  "id  not  wish 
to  wear  on  this  expedition. 

When  they  drew  near  to  the  paraschites'  hovel  he  ner- 
cerved  the  tumult  among  the  people,  and,  loud  aboveSl 
the  noise,  heard  Uarda's  shrill  cry  of  terror.  He  hurried 
forward,  and  in  the  dull  light  of  the  scattered  fire-brands 
and  colored  lanterns,  he  saw  the  black  hand  of  the  soldS 
clutching  the  hair  of  the  helpless  child;  quick  as  thoutht 
he  gripped  the  soldier's  throat  with  his  iron  fingers  seifed 
him  round  the  body,  swung  him  in  the  air,  and  flung  him 
like  a  block  of  stone  right  into  the  little  yard  of  the  hut 

The  people  threw  themselves  on  the  champion  in  a 
frenzy  of  rage,  but  he  felt  a  sudden  warlike  impulse  suriin* 
up  in  him,  which  he  had  never  felt  before  With o  I 
wrench  ^  pulled  out  the  heavy  wooden  pole  which  sup! 

vZ^^lt^  —d,  while  nelaSVi 
"He  who  touches  the  child  is  a  dead  man  !  "  he  cried 
Shame  on  you  .'-falling  on  a  feeble  old  man  and  a  heS 

less  child  in  the  middle  of  a  holy  festival  t  "  P 


3o«  UARDA. 


For  a  moment  the  crowd  was  silent,  but  immediately 
f/er  rushed  forward  with  fresh  impetus,  and  w.lder  than 

Sto°0ieces!  burn  his  house  down  1 " 

wmmm 

nocencf  and  lire  of  this  frail  creature  with  his  nght  hand 
Ton^nrore  dcspera^ly  swung  the 

the  enormous  B^^^^tenedbreaih,  and 
^fstiS  iSaThand,  drew  her  to  him,  and  hastily 


UARDA.  30? 

put  out -the  flame,  while  Pentaur  protected  them  with  his 
sword. 

The  prince  and  the  poet  stood  thus  back  to  back  for  a 
tew  moments,  when  a  stone  struck  Pentaur's  head  •  he 
staggered  and  the  crowd  were  rushing  upon  him,  when 
the  little  fence  was  torn  away  by  a  determined  hand  a 
tall  womanly  form  appeared  on  the  scene  of  combat,  and 
cried  to  the  astonished  mob  : 

' '  ,Have  done  with  this  !  I  command  you  !  I  am  Bent- 
Anat,  the  daughter  of  Rameses." 

The  angry  crowd  gave  way  in  sheer  astonishment. 
ih„  ^Uu  recovered  from  the  stunning  blow,  but  he 
thought  he  must  be  under  some  illusion.  He  felt  as  if  he 
mustthrow  himself  on  his  knees  before  Bent-Anat,  but  his 
mind  had  been  trained  under  Ameni  to  rapid  reflection  ; 
and^nS H  "fK  flash°f  thought,  the  princess' position 

2  wu        °f  bowinS  before  her  he  exclaimed  : 
TW a    Tfl  this  woman  may  be,  good  folks,  she  is  not 
Bent-Anat  the  princess  ;  but  I,  though  I  have  no  white 

ChZhT  r?  a  pr,1QS}  °f  Seti'  named  Pentaur>  and  the 
Cherheb  of  to-day's  festival.    Leave  this  spot,  woman  I 
command  you,  in  right  of  my  sacred  office. " 
And  Bent-Anat  obeyed. 

Pentaur  was  saved;  for  just  as  the  people  began  to  re- 
cover from  their  astonishment-just  as  those  whom  he  had 
hurt  were  once  more  inciting  the  mob  to  fight— just  as  a 
boy,  whose  hand  he  had  crushed,  was  crying  out  • <  He  is 
not  a  priest,  he  is  a  swordsman.    Down  with  the  liar  ■  " 

A  voice  from  the  crowd  exclaimed  • 

P^'fMakeiWay  l°Tmy  White  robe-  and  leave  the  preacher 
Pentaur  alone,  he  is  my  friend.    You  most  of  you  know 

criedYa0sailorNebSeCht  ^  ^  Wh°  S6t  ^  broken  leS>" 

^  And  cured  my  bad  eye,"  said  a  weaver. 
rriJihl       handsome  man  is  Pentaur,  I  know  him  well," 
cried  the  girl,  whose  opinion  had  been  overheard  by  Bent- 

hP"  Prei^el"  tWs'  Preacher  that  !  "  shouted  the  boy  and 
he  would  have  rushed  forward,  but  the  people  held  him 
back,  and  divided  respectfully  at  Nebsecht'scommand  to 
make  way  for  him  to  get  at  those  who  had  been  hurt 


3o8 


UARDA. 


First  he  stooped  over  the  old  paraschites. 
"Shame  upon  you  !  "  he  exclaimed.    "  You  have  killed 
the  old  man." 

' '  And  I, "  said  Pentaur,  ' '  have  dipped  my  peaceful  hand 
in  blood  to  save  his  innocent  and  suffering  grandchild  from 
a  like  fate." 

"  Scorpions,  vipers,  venomous  reptiles,  scum  of  men  !  " 
skrieked  Nebsecht,  and  he  sprang  wildly  forward,  seeking 
Uarda.  When  he  saw  her  sitting  safe  at  the  feet  of  old 
Hekt,  who  had  made  her  way  into  the  courtyard,  he  drew 
a  deep  breath  of  relief,  and  turned  his  attention  to  the 
wounded. 

"  Did  you  knock  down  all  that  are  lying  here?  "  he  whis- 
pered to  his  friend. 

Pentaur  nodded  assent  and  smiled  ;  but  not  in  triumph, 
rather  in  shame  ;  like  a  boy  who  has  unintentionally 
squeezed  to  death  in  his  hand  a  bird  he  has  caught. 

Nebsecht  looked  round  astonished  and  anxious. 

"Why  did  you  not  say  who  you  were  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Because  the  spirit  of  the  God  Menth  possessed  me," 
answered  Pentaur.  "When  I  saw  that  accursed  villain 
there  with  his  hand  in  the  girl's  hair,  I  heard  and  saw 
nothing,  I  " 

"You  did  right,"  interrupted  Nebsecht.  "But  where 
will  all  this  end  ?  " 

At  this  moment  a  flourish  of  trumpets  rang  through  the 
little  valley.  The  officer  sent  by  Ameni  to  apprehend  the 
paraschites  came  up  with  his  soldiers. 

Before  he  entered  the  courtyard  he  ordered  the  crowd 
to  disperse  ;  the  refractory  were  driven  away  by  force,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  valley  was  cleared  of  the  howling  and 
shouting  mob,  and  the  burning  house  was  surrounded  by 
soldiers.  Bent-Anat,  Rameri  and  Nefert  were  obliged  to 
quit  their  places  by  the  fence  ;  Rameri,  so  soon  as  he  saw 
that  Uarda  was  safe,  had  rejoined  his  sister. 

Nefert  was  almost  fainting  with  fear  and  excitement. 
The  two  servants,  who  had  kept  near  them,  knit  their 
hands  together,  and  thus  carried  her  in  advance  of 
the  princess.  Not  one  of  them  spoke  a  word,  not 
even  Rameri,  who  could  not  forget  Uarda,  and  the  look 
of  gratitude  she  had  sent  after  him.  Once  only  Bent- 
Anat  said  : 


UARDA. 


"The  hovel  is  burnt  down.  Where  will  the  poor  souls 
sleep  to-night  ? " 

When  the  valley  was  clear,  the  officer  entered  the 
yard,  and  found  there,  besides  Uarda  and  the  witch  Hekt, 
the  poet  and  Nebsecht,  who  was  engaged  in  tending  the 
wounded. 

Pentaur  shortly  narrated  the  affair  to  the  captain,  and 
named  himself  to  him. 

The  soldier  offered  him  his  hand. 

"If  there  were  many  men  in  Rameses'  army/'  said 
he,  • ' who  could  strike  such  a  blow  as  you,  the  war  with  the 
Cheta  would  soon  be  at  an  end.  But  you  have  struck 
down,  not  Asiatics,  but  citizens  of  Thebes,  and,  much  as 
I  regret  it,  I  must  take  you  as  a  prisoner  to  Ameni." 

"  You  only  do  your  duty/'  replied  Pentaur,  bowing  to 
the  captain,  who  ordered  his  men  to  take  up  the  body  of 
the  paraschites,  and  to  bear  it  to  the  temple  of  Seti. 

"I  ought  to  take  the  girl  in  charge  too,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Pentaur. 

"  She  is  ill, w  replied  the  poet. 

"  And  if  she  does  not  get  some  rest,"  added  Nebsecht, 
."she  will  be  dead.  Leave  her  alone;  she  is  under  the 
particular  protection  of  the  Princess  Bent-Anat,  who  ran 
over  her  not  long  ago.'/ 

"  I  will  take  her  into  my  house,"  said  Hekt,  "  and  will 
take  care  of  her.  Her  grandmother  is  lying  there  ;  she 
was  half-choked  by  the  flames,  but  she  will  soon  come  to 
herself — and  I  have  room  for  both." 

"Till  to-morrow,"  replied  the  surgeon.  "  Then  I  will 
provide  another  shelter  for  her." 

The  old  woman  laughed  and  muttered  :  "  There  are 
plenty  of  folks  to  take  care  of  her,  it  seems." 

The  soldiers  obeyed  the  command  of  their  leader,  took 
up  the  wounded,  and  went  away  with  Pentaur,  and  the 
body  of  Pinem. 

Meanwhile,  Bent-Anat  and  her  party  had  with  much 
difficulty  reached  the  river  bank.  One  of  the  bearers  was 
sent  to  find  the  boat  which  was  waiting  for  them,  and  he 
was  enjoined  to  make  haste,  for  already  they  could  see  the 
approach  of  the  procession,  which  escorted  the  god  on  his 
return  journey.    If  they  could  not  succeed  in  finding  their 


UAkDA 


boat  without  delay  they  must  wait  at  least  an  hour,  for,  at 
night,  not  a  boat  that  did  not  belong  to  the  train  of  Anion 
— not  even  the  barge  of  a  noble — might  venture  from  shore 
till  the  whole  procession  was  safe  across. 

They  awaited  the  messenger's  signal  in  the  greatest 
anxiety,  for  Nefert  was  perfectly  exhausted,  and  Bent- 
Anat,  on  whom  she  leaned,  felt  her  trembling  in  every 
limb. 

At  last  the  bearer  gave  the  signal ;  the  swift,  almost  in- 
visible bark,  which  was  generally  used  for  wild-fowl  shoot- 
ing, shot  by.  Rameri  seized  one  end  of  an  oar  that  the 
rower  held  out  to  him,  and  drew  the  little  boat  up  to  the 
landing-place. 

The  captain  of  the  watch  passed  at  the  same  moment, 
and  shouted  out, 4 '  This  is  the  last  boat  that  can  put  off 
before  the  passage  of  the  god  !  " 

Bent-Anat  descended  the  steps  as  quickly  as  Nefert's 
exhausted  state  permitted.  The  landing-place  was  now 
only  dimly  lighted  by  dull  lanterns,  though,  when  the  god 
embarked,  it  would  be  as  light  as  day  with  cressets  and 
torches.  Before  she  could  reach  the  bottom  step,  with 
Nefert  still  clinging  heavily  to  her  arms,  a  hard  hand  was 
laid  on  her  shoulder,  and  the  rough  voice  of  Paaker  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Stand  back,  you  rabble  !    We  are  going  first." 

The  captain  of  the  watch  did  not  stop  him,  for  he  knew 
the  chief  pioneer  and  his  overbearing  ways.  Paaker  put 
his  finger  to  his  lips  and  gave  a  shrill  whistle  that  sounded 
like  a  yell  in  the  silence. 

The  stroke  of  oars  responded  to  the  call,  and  Paaker 
called  out  to  his  boatmen  : 

"  Bring  the  boat  up  here!  these  people  can  wait  ! 

The  pioneer's  boat  was  larger  and  better  manned  than 
that  of  the  princess. 

''Jump  into  the  boat  !  "  cried  Rameri. 

Bent-Anat  went  forward  without  speaking,  for  she  did 
not  wish  to  make  herself  known  again  for  the  sake  of  the 
people,  and  for  Nefert's  ;  but  Paaker  put  himself  in  her 
way. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  you  common  people  must  wait 
till  we  are  gone.  Push  these  people  s  boat  out  into  the 
stream,  you  men/' 


UARDA.  3II 


Bent-Anat  felt  her  blood  chill,  for  aloud  squabble  at 
once  began  on  the  landing-steps. 

.  Rameri's  voice  sounded  louder  than  all  the  rest  •  but  the 
pioneer  exclaimed  :  ' 

"The  low  brutes  dare  to  resist?  I  will  teach  them 
manners  !  Here,  Descher,  look  after  the  women  and 
these  boys  ! 

At  this  call  his  great  red  hound  barked  and  sprang-  for- 
ward, which,  as  it  had  belonged  to  his  father,  always  ac- 
companied him  when  he  went  with  his  mother  to  visit  the 
ancestral  tomb.  Nefert  shrieked  with  fright,  but  the  dos 
at  once  knew  her,  and  crouched  against  her  with  whines 
ot  recognition. 

_  Paaker  who  had  gone  down  to  his  boat,  turned  round 
in  astonishment,  and  saw  his  dog  fawning  at  the  feet  of  a 
boy  whom  he  could  not  possibly  recognize  as  Nefert  •  he 
sprang  back,  and  cried  out : 

"I  will  teach  you,  you  young  scoundrel,  to  spoil  my 
dog  with  spells— or  poison  I"  y 

He  raised  his  whip,  and  struck  it  across  the  shoulders 
of  Nefert,  who,  with  one  scream  of  terror  and  anguish, 
tell  to  the  ground.  &  ' 

The  lash  of  the  whip  only  whistled  close  by  the  cheek 
of  the  poor  fainting  woman,  for  Bent-Anat  had  seized 
Paaker  s  arm  with  all  her  might. 

Rage,  disgust  and  scorn  stopped  her  utterance;  but 
Ramen  had  heard  Nefert's  shriek,  and  in  two  steps  stood 
by  the  women*  r 

hU  'h»ZardlY  f  °UndrJell",_he  cried>  and  lifted  the  oar  in 
h  s  hand.    Paaker  evaded  the  blow,  and  called  to  the  dog 
with  a  peculiar  hiss  :  5 
"Pull  him  down,  Descher." 

hJhK-!TndJfl!W1at  the  Prince>-  butRameri,  who,  from 
hunts  df\00fid'11)ad  been  his  father's  companion  in  many 
nTL  w  field-sP°rts>  gave  the  furious  brute  such  a 
mighty  blow  on  the  muzzle  that  he  rolled  over  with  a 

Paaker  believed  that  he  possessed  in  the  whole  world  no 

Ss'march^1  ^  ?  *"  ^  d^  his  companion  on  S 
his  marches  across  desert  tracts  or  through  the  enemy's 
country,  and  when  he  .saw  him  lie  writhinf  on  the  ground 
h»  rage  knew  no  bounds,  and  he  flew  at  the  youngs  er 


312 


UARDA. 


with  his  whip  ;  but  Rameri — madly  excited  by  all  the 
events  of  the  night,  full  of  the  warlike  spirit  of  his  fathers, 
worked  up  to  the  highest  pitch  by  the  insults  of  the  two 
ladies,  and  seeing  that  he  was  their  only  protector — sud- 
denly felt  himself  endowed  with  the  strength  of  a  man  ; 
he  dealt  the  pioneer  such  a  heavy  blow  on  the  left  hand, 
that  he  dropped  his  whip,  and  now  seized  the  dagger  in 
his  girdle  with  his  right. 

Bent-Anat  threw  herself  between  the  man  and  the  strip- 
ling, who  was  hardly  more  than  a  boy,  once  more  declared 
her  name,  and  this  time  her  brother's  also,  and  commanded 
Paaker  to  make  peace  among  the  boatmen.  Then  she  led 
Nefert,  who  remained  unrecognized,  into  the  boat,  entered 
it  herself  with  her  companions,  and  shortly  after  landed  at 
the  palace,  while  Paaker's  mother,  for  whom  he  had  called 
his  boat,  had  yet  a  long  time  to  wait  before  it  could  start. 
Setchem  had  seen  the  struggle  from  her  litter  at  the  top 
of  the  landing  steps,  but  without  understanding  its  origin, 
and  without  recognizing  the  chief  actors. 

The  dog  was  dead.  Paaker's  hand  was  very  painful, 
and  fresh  rage  was  seething  in  his  soul. 

"  That  brood  of  Rameses  !  "  he  muttered.  "  Adventur- 
ers !  They  shall  learn  to  know  me.  Mena  and  Rameses 
are  closely  connected — I  will  sacrifice  them  both." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

At  last  the  pioneer's  boat  got  off  with  his  mother  and 
the  body  of  the  dog,  which  he  intended  to  send  to  be 
embalmed  at  Kynopolis,*  the  city  in  which  the  dog  was 
held  sacred  above  all  animals  ;  Paaker  himself  returned  to 

*  Kynopolis,  or  in  old  Egyptian  Saka,  is  now  Samalut ;  Anubis  was  the 
chief  divinity  worshiped  there.  Plutarch  relates  a  quarrel  between  the 
inhabitants  of  this  city,  and  the  neighboring  one  of  Oxyrynchos,  where 
the  fish  called  Oxyrynchos  was  worshiped.  It  began  because  the 
Kynopolitans  eat  the  nsh,  and  in  revenge  the  Oxyrynchites  caught  and 
killed  dogs,  and  consumed  them  in  sacrifices.  Juvenal  relates  a  similar 
story  of  the  Ombites — perhaps  Koptites — and  Tentyrites  in  the  fifteenth 
Satire. 


UARDA. 

the  House  of  Seti,  where,  in  the  night  which  closed  the 
feast  day,  there  was  always  a  grand  banquet  for  the  superior 
priests  of  the  Necropolis  and  of  the  temples  of  eastern 
Thebes,  for  the  representatives  of  other  foundations,  and 
for  select  dignitaries  of  the  state. 

His  father  had  never  failed  to  attend  this  entertainment 
when  he  was  in  Thebes,  but  he  himself  had  to-day  for  the 
first  time  received  the  much-coveted  honor  of  an  invitation, 
which — Ameni  told  him  when  he  gave  it— he  entirely- 
owed  to  the  regent. 

His  mother  had  tied  up  his  hand,  which  Rameri  had 
severely  hurt  ;  it  was  extremely  painful,  but  he  would  not 
have  missed  the  banquet  at  any  cost,  although  he  felt  some 
alarm  of  the  solemn  ceremony.  His  family  was  as  old  as 
any  in  Egypt,  his  blood  purer  than  the  king's,  and  never- 
theless he  never  felt  thoroughly  at  home  in  the  company 
of  superior  people.  He  was  no  priest,  although  a  scribe  ; 
he  was  a  warrior,  and  yet  he  did  not  rank  with  royal 
heroes. 

He  had  been  brought  up  to  a  strict  fulfillment  of  his 
duty,  and  he  devoted  himself  zealously  to  his  calling  ;  but 
his  habits  of  life  were  widely  different  from  those  of  the 
society  in  which  he  had  been  brought  up— a  society  of 
which  his  handsome,  brave,  and  magnanimous  father  had 
been  a  chief  ornament.  He  did  not  cling  covetously  to  his 
inherited  wealth,  and  the  noble  attribute  of  liberality  was 
not  strange  to  him,  but  the  coarseness  of  his  nature 
showed  itself  most  when  he  was  most  lavish,  for  he  was 
never  tired  of  exacting  gratitude  from  those  whom  he  had 
attached  to  him  by  his  gifts,  and  he  thought  he  had 
earned  the  right  by  his  liberality  to  meet  the  recipient 
with  roughness  or  arrogance,  according  to  his  humor. 
Thus  it  happened  that  his  best  actions  procured  him  not 
friends  but  enemies. 

Paaker's  was,  in  fact,  an  ignoble,  that  is  to  say,  a  selfish 
nature  ;  to  shorten  his  road  he  trod  down  flowers  as  readily 
as  he  marched  over  the  sand  of  the  desert.  This  charac- 
teristic marked  him  in  all  things,  even  in  his  outward  de- 
meanor ;  in  the  sound  of  his  voice,  in  his  broad  features 
in  the  swaggering  gait  of  his  stumpy  figure. 

In  camp  he  could  conduct  himself  as  he  pleased,  but 
this  was  not  permissible  in  the  society  of  his  equals  in 


3*4 


UARDA. 


rank ;  for  this  reason,  and  because  those  faculties  of  quick 
remark  and  repartee,  which  distinguished  them,  had  been 
denied  to  him,  he  felt  uneasy  and  out  of  his  element  when 
he  mixed  with  them,  and  he  would  hardly  have  accepted 
Amends  invitation,  if  it  had  not  so  greatly  flattered  his 
vanity. 

It  was  already  late  ;  but  the  banquet  did  not  begin  till 
midnight,  for  the  guests,  before  it  began,  assisted  at  the 
play  which  was  performed  by  lamp  and  torch-light  on  the 
sacred  lake  in  the  south  of  the  Necropolis,  and  which 
represented  the  history  of  Isis  and  Osiris. 

When  he  entered  the  decorated  hall  in  which  the  tables 
were  prepared,  he  found  all  the  guests  assembled.  The 
Regent  Ani  was  present,  and  sat  on  Ameni's  right  at  the 
top  of  the  center  high-table  at  which  several  places  were 
unoccupied  ;  for  the  prophets  and  the  initiated  of  the  tem- 
ple of  Amon  had  excused  themselves  from  being  present. 
They  were  faithful  to  Rameses  and  his  house  ;  their  gray- 
haired  superior  disapproved  of  Ameni's  severity  toward 
the  prince  and  princess,  and  they  regarded  the  *niracle  of 
the  sacred  heart  as  a  malicious  trick  of  the  chiefs  of  the 
Necropolis  against  the  great  temple  of  the  capital,  for 
which  Rameses  had  always  shown  a  preference. 

The  pioneer  went  up  to  the  table  where  sat  the  general 
of  the  troops  that  had  just  returned  victorious  from 
Ethiopia,  and  several  other  officers  of  high  rank.  There 
was  a  place  vacant  next  to  the  general.  Paaker  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  this,  but  when  he  observed  that  the  officer 
signed  the  one  next  to  him  to  come  a  little  nearer,  the 
pioneer  imagined  that  each  would  endeavor  to  avoid  hav- 
ing him  for  his  neighbor,  and  with  an  angry  glance  he 
turned  his  back  on  the  table  where  the  warrior  sat. 

The  Mohar  was  not,  in  fact,  a  welcome  boon-compan- 
ion. ''The  wine  turns  sour  when  that  churl  looks  at  it," 
said  the  general. 

The  eyes  of  all  the  guests  turned  on  Paaker,  who  looked 
round  for  a  seat,  and  when  no  one  beckoned  him  to  one 
he  felt  his  blood  begin  to  boil.  He  would  have  liked  to 
leave  the  banqueting-hall  at  once  with  a  swingeing  curse. 
He  had  indeed  turned  toward  the  door,  when  the  regent, 
who  had  exchanged  a  few  whispered  words  with  Ameni, 
called  to  him,  requested  him  to  take  the  place  that  had 


UARDA.  315 


been  reserved  for  him,  and  pointed  to  the  seat  by  his  side, 
which  had  in  fact  been  intended  for  the  high-priest  of  the 
temple  of  Amon. 

Paaker  bowed  low,  and  took  the  place  of  honor,  hardly 
daring  to  look  round  the  table,  lest  he  should- encounter 
looks  of  surprise  or  of  mockery.  And  yet  he  had  pictured 
to  himself  his  grandfather  Assa,  and  his  father,  as  some- 
where near  this  place  of  honor,  which  had  actually  often 
enough  been  given  up  to  them.  And  was  he  not  their  de- 
scendant and  heir  ?  Was  not  his  mother  Setchem  of  royal 
race  ?  Was  not  the  temple  of  Seti  more  indebted  to  him 
than  to  any  one? 

A  servant  laid  a  garland  of  flowers  round  his  shoulders, 
and  another  handed  him  wine  and  food.  Then  he  raised 
his  eyes,  and  met  the  bright  and  sparkling  glance  of 
Gagabu  ;  he  looked  quickly  down  again  at  the  table. 

Then  the  regent  spoke  to  him,  and  turning  to  the  other 
guests  mentioned  that  Paaker  was  on  the  point  of  start- 
ing next  day  for  Syria,  and  resuming  his  arduous  labors 
as  Mohan  It  seemed  to  Paaker  that  the  regent  was 
excusing  himself  for  having  given  him  so  high  a  place  of 

honon  .  .    1      -ii  M 

Presently  Ani  raised  his  wine-cup  and  drank  to  the 
happy  issue  of  his  reconnoitering  expedition,  and  a  victori- 
ous conclusion  to  every  struggle  in  which  the  Mohar  might 
engage.  The  high-priest  then  pledged  him,  and  thanked 
him  emphatically  in  the  name  of  the  brethren  of  the  tem- 
ple, for  the  noble  tract  of  arable  land  which  he  had  that 
morning  given  them  as  a  votive  offering.  A  murmur  of 
approbation  ran  round  the  tables,  and  Paaker  s  timidity 
began  to  diminish. 

He  had  kept  the  wrappings  that  his  mother  had  applied 
round  his  still-aching  hand. 

"  Are  you  wounded?  "  asked  the  regent. 

"  Nothing  of  importance,"  answered  the  pioneer.  "I 
was  helping  my  mother  into  the  boat,  and  it  happened  " 

"It  happened,"  interrupted  an  old  school-fellow  of  the 
Mohar  s,  who  himself  held  a  high  appointment  as  officer 
of  the  city  watch  of  Thebes,  "it  happened  that  an  oar  or 
a  stake  fell  on  his  fingers." 

' '  Is  it  possible  V  cried  the  regent. 

"  And  quite  a  youngster  laid  hands  on  him,"  continued 


316  UARDA. 

the  officer.  "  My  people  told  me  every  detail.  First  the 
boy  killed  his  dog  " 

"That  noble  Descher  ? "  asked  the  master  of  the  hunt, 
in  a  tone  of  regret.  "Your  father  was  often  by  my  side 
with  that  dog  at  a  boar-hunt." 

Paaker  bowed  his  head  ;  but  the  officer  of  the  watch, 
secure  in  his  position  and  dignity"  and  taking  no  notice  of 
the  glow  of  anger  which  flushed  Paaker's  face,  began 
again  : 

"When  the  hound  lay  on  the  ground,  the  foolhardy 
boy  struck  your  dagger  out  of  your  hand." 

"And  did  this  squabble  lead  to  any  disturbance?" 
asked  Ameni,  earnestly. 

"  No,"  replied  the  officer.  "The  feast  has  passed  off 
to-day  with  unusual  quiet.  If  the  unlucky  interruption  to 
the  procession  by  that  crazy  paraschites  had  not  occurred 
we  should  have  nothing  but  praise  for  the  populace.  Be- 
sides the  fighting  priest,  whom  we  have  handed  over  to 
you,  only  a  few  thieves  have  been  apprehended,  and  they 
belong  exclusively  to  the  caste, #  so  we  simply  took  their 
booty  from  them  and  let  them  go.  But  say,  Paaker,  what 
devil  of  amiability  took  possession  of  you  down  by  the 
river,  that  you  let  the  rascal  escape  unpunished." 

"  Did  you  do  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Gagabu.  "Revenge  is 
usually  your  " 

Ameni  threw  so  warning  a  glance  at  the  old  man  that 
he  suddenly  broke  off,  and  then  asked  the  pioneer  : 

"How  did  the  struggle  begin,  and  who  was  the  fel- 
low ? " 

"Some  insolent  people,"  said  Paaker,  "wanted  to  push 
in  front  of  the  boat  that  was  waiting  for  my  mother,  and  I 
asserted  my  rights.  The  rascal  fell  upon  me  and  killed 
my  dog  and — by  my  Osirian    father  ! — the  crocodiles 

*  According  to  Diodorus  (I.  80)  there  was  a  caste  of  thieves  in  Thebes. 
All  citizens  were  obliged  to  enter  their  names  in  a  register,  and  state 
where  they  lived,  and  the  thieves  did  the  same.  The  names  were  en- 
rolled by  the  "  chief  of  the  thieves,"  and  all  stolen  goods  had  to  be  given 
up  to  him.  The  person  robbed  had  to  give  a  written  description  of  the 
object  he  had  lost,  and  a  declaration  as  to  when  and  where  he  had  lost 
it.  The  stolen  property  was  thus  easily  recovered,  and  restored  to  the 
owner  on  the  payment  of  one-fourth  of  its  value,  which  was  given  to  the 
thief.  A  similar  state  of  things  existed  at  Cairo  within  a  comparatively 
short  time. 


UARDA.  3*7 


would  long  since  have  eaten  him  if  a  woman  had  not 
come  between  us,  and  made  herself  known  to  me  as  Ben t- 
Anat  the  daughter  of  Rameses.  It  was  she  herself,  and 
the  rascal  was  the  young  Prince  Rameri,  who  was  yester- 
day forbidden  this  temple." 

''Oho  '  "  cried  the  old  master  of  the  hunt.  "Oho  !  my 
lord !  Is  this  the  way  to  speak  of  the  children  of  the 

kinp*  "  1  > 

Others  of  the  company  who  were  attached  to  Pharaoh  s 
family  expressed  their  indignation  ;  but  Ameni  whispered 
to  Paaker— "  Say  no  more  !  "  then  he  continued  aloud  : 

"  You  never  were  careful  in  weighing  your  words,  my 
friend  and  now,  as  it  seems  to  me,  you  are  speaking  m 
the  heat  of  fever.  Come  here,  Gagabu,  and  examine 
Paaker's  wound,  which  is  no  disgrace  to  him— for  it  was 
inflicted  by  a  prince." 

The  old  man  loosened  the  bandage  from  the  pioneers 
swollen  hand. 

«  That  was  a  bad  blow,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "three  fingers 
are  broken,  and— do  you  see  ?— the  emerald  too  in  your 

signet  ring."  .       „  ,   .  ,  , 

Paaker  looked  down  at  his  aching  fingers,  and  sighed 
deeply  for  not  only  the  oracular  ring  with  the  name  of 
Thotmes  III.,  but  the  valuable  ring  given  to  his  father  by 
the  reigning  king,  had  been  crushed.  Only  a  tew  solitary 
fragments  of  the  splintered  stone  remained  in  the  setting ; 
the  king  s  name  had  fallen  to  pieces  and  disappeared. 
Paaker's  bloodless  lips  moved  silently,  and  an  inner  voice 
cried  out  to  him:  "The  gods  point  out  the  way!  The 
name  is  gone,  the  bearer  of  the  name  must  follow. 

"It  is  a  pity  about  the  ring,"  said  Gagabu.     "And  if 
the  hand  must  follow— fortunately  it  is  your  left  hand. 
Now  leave  off  drinking,  let  yourself  be  taken  to  Nebsecht 
the  surgeon,  and  get  him  to  set  the  joints  neatly,  and 
bind  them  up."  . 

Paaker  rose  and  went  away  after  Ameni  had  appointed 
to  meet  him  on  the  following  day  at  the  temple  of  Seti, 
and  the  regent  at  the  palace. 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  the  treasurer  ot 
the  temple  said  :  .  ,  , 

4 'This  has  been  a  bad  day  for  the  Mohar,  and  perhaps 
it  will  teach  him  that  Jxere  jn  Thebes  he  cannot  swagger 


3l8  UARDA. 


as  he  does  in  the  field.    Another  adventure  occurred  to 
him  to-day  ;  would  you  like  to  hear  it  ? 
<<  Yes  ;  tell  it !  "  cried  the  guests. 

"You  all  knew  old  Seni,"  began  the  treasurer.  He 
was  a  rich  man,  but  he  gave  away  all  his  goods .to _the 
poor,  after  his  seven  blooming  sons,  one  after  another, 
had  died  in  the  war,  or  of  illness.    He  only  kept  a 
small  house  with  a  little  garden,  and  said  that  as  the 
o-ods  had  taken  his  children  to  themselves  in  he  other 
WrW  he  would  take  pity  on  the  forlorn  m  this.     'Feed  he 
hungry,  give  drink  to  the  thirsty,  clothe  the  naked,  says 
the  law  •  and  now  that  Seni  has  nothing  more  to  give  away, 
he  goes  through  the  city,  as  you  know,  hungry  and  thirsty 
himself  and  scarcely  clothed,  and  begging  for  his  adopted 
Sen,  the  poor.    We  have  all  given  to  him  tor  we  aU 
know  for  whom  he  humbles  himself,  and  holds  out  his 
hand   To-day  he  went  round  with  his  little  bag,  and  begged, 
with  his  kind  good  eyes,  for  alms.    Paaker  has  given  us  a 
good  piece  of  arable  land,  and  thinks  perhaps  with  reason 
he  hi  done  his  part.    When  Seni  addressed  him,  he  old 
Wm  to  go  ;  but  the  old  man  did  not  give  up  asking  him 
he  followed  him  persistently  to  the  grave  of  his  father,  and 
a  exeat  many  people  with  him.    Then  the  pioneer  pushed 
him  angrily  back/and  when  at  last  the  beggar  clutched  his 
gaTmenl,  he  raised  his  whip,  and  struck  him  two  ov  three 
fimes  crying  out:  "There-that  is  your  portion!  The 
g^d  oldmafi  bore  it  quite  patiently,  while  he  untied  the 
bag  and  said  with  tears  in  his  eyes  :  '  My  portion-yes- 
but  not  the  portion  of  the  poor  !  +iUr 
''I  was  standing  near,  ^d  I  saw  how  Paaker  hastily 
withdrew  into  the  tomb,  and  how  his  mother  Setchem 
Threw  hex  full  puxse  to  Seni.    Others  followed  her  example 
and  the  old  man  never  had  a  richer  harvest.    Th.  poor 
may  thank  the  Mohar  !     A  crowd  of  people  collected 
n  front  of  the  tomb,  and  he  would  have  fared  badly  it 
it  had 'not  been  for  the  police  guard  who  drove  them 

^During  this  narrative,  which  was  heard  with  much 
approval-for  no  one  is  more  secure  of  his  resu  t  than  he 
who  can  tell  of  the  downfall  of  a  man  who  is  disliked  for 
Sif  arrogance-the  regent  and  the  high-priest  had  been 
eagerly  whispering  to  each  other. 


UARDA.  3!9 

"There  can  be  no  doubt,"  said  Ameni,  "that  Bent- 
Anat  did  actually  come  to  the  festival." 

"And  had  also  dealings  with  the  priest  whom  you  so 
warmly  defend,"  whispered  the  other. 

«  Pentaur  shall  be  questioned  this  very  night  returned 
the  high-priest.  "The  dishes  will  soon  be  taken  away, 
and  the  drinking  will  begin.    Let  us  go  and  hear  what  the 

poet  says."  ...  „      ,.  ,  »  . 

"  But  there  are  now  no  witnesses,   replied  Am. 
"  We  do  not  need  them, "  said  Ameni.    "  He  is  incapable 

°f  "Let  us  go  then,"  said  the  regent,  smiling,  "for  I  am 
really  curious  about  this  white  negro,  and  how  he  will  come 
to  terms  with  the  truth.  You  have  forgotten  that  there  is 
a  woman  in  the  case."  .  , 

"That  there  always  is  !  "  answered  Ameni  ;  he  called 
Ga^abu  to  him,  gave  him  his  seat,  begged  him  to  keep  up 
the  flow  of  cheerful  conversation,  to  encourage  the  guests 
to  drink,  and  to  interrupt  all  talk  of  the  king,  the  state, 

th  "  You  know,"  he  concluded,  "  that  we  are  not  by  our- 
selves this  evening.  Wine  has,  before  this  betrayed  every- 
thing !  Remember  this— the  mother  of  foresight  looks 
backward  \"  ,  , 

Ani  clapped  his  hand  on  the  old  man  s  shoulder, 
"There  will  be  a  space  cleared  to-night  m  your  wine- 
lofts  It  is  said  of  you  that  you  cannot  bear  to  see  either 
a  full  glass  or  an  empty  one  ;  to-night  giye  your  aversion 
to  both  free  play.  And  when  you  think  it  is  the  right 
moment,  give  a  sign  to  my  steward,  who  is  sitting  there 
in  the  corner.  He  has  a  few  jars  of  the  best  liquor 
from  Byblos,*  that  he  brought  over  with  him,  and  he  wi  1 
bring  it  to  you.    I  will  come  in  again  and  bid  you  good- 

111  Ameni  was  accustomed  to  leave  the  hall  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  drinking. 

When  the  door  was  closed  behind  him  and  his  com- 
panion, when  fresh  rose-garlands  had  been  brought  for 
the  necks  of  the  company,  when  lotus-blossoms  decorated 
their  heads,  and  the  beakers  were  refilled,  a  choir  ot 

*  Gebal-Byblos  in  Phoenicia.  A  very  famous  wine  was  grown  there, 
much  appreciated  by  the  Greeks. 


320 


UARDA. 


musicians  came  in,  who  played  on  harps,  lutes,  flutes  and 
small  drums.  The  conductor  beat  the  time  by  clapping 
his  hands,  and  when  the  music  had  raised  the  spirits  of  the 
drinkers,  they  seconded  his  efforts  by  rhythmical  clappings. 
The  jolly  old  Gagabu  kept  up  his  character  as  a  stout 
drinker,  and  leader  of  the  feaSt. 

The  most  priestly  countenances  soon  beamed  with 
cheerfulness,  and  the  officers  and  courtiers  outdid  each 
other  in  audacious  jokes.  Then  the  old  man  signed  to  a 
young  temple-servant,  who  wore  a  costly  wreath  ;  he 
came  forward  with  a  small  gilt  image  of  a  mummy,  carried 
it  round  the  circle,  and  cried  : 

"  Look  at  this  ;  be  merry  and  drink  so  long  as  you  are 
on  earth,  for  soon  you  must  be  like  this."  * 

Gagabu  gave  another  signal,  and  the  regent's  steward 
brought  in  the  wine  from  Byblos.  Ani  was  much  lauded 
for  the  wonderful  choiceness  of  the  liquor. 

"Such  wine,"  exclaimed  the  usually  grave  chief  of  the 
pastophori,  "is  like  soap.  "  f 

"What  a  simile  !  "  cried  Gagabu.  "  You  must  explain 
it." 

"  It  cleanses  the  soul  of  sorrow,"  answered  the  other. 

"Good,  friend  !  "  they  all  exclaimed.  "Now  every  one 
in  turn  shall  praise  the  noble  juice  in  some  worthy  saying. " 

"  You  begin — the  chief  prophet  of  the  temple  of  Amen- 
ophis." 

"Sorrow  is  a  poison,"  said  the  priest,  "and  wine  is  the 
antidote." 

"Well  said! — go  on;  it  is  your  turn,  my  lord  privy- 
councillor." 

"Everything  has  its  secret  spring,"  said  the  official, 
"and  wine  is  the  secret  of  joy." 

"  Now  you,  my  lord  keeper  of  the  seal." 

"  Wine  seals  the  door  on  discontent,  and  locks  the  gates 
on  sorrow." 

*  A  custom  mentioned  by  Herodotus.  Lucian  saw  such  an  image 
brought  in  at  a  feast.  The  Greeks  adopted  the  idea,  but  beautified  it, 
using  a  winged  Genius  of  death  instead  of  a  mummy.  The  Romans  also 
had  their  "  larva." 

t  This  comparison  is  genuinely  eastern.  Kisra  calls  wine  the  "  soap 
of  the  throat,"  and  the  Mohammedans,  to  whom  wine  is  forbidden, 
have  nevertheless  sung  its  merits.  Many  passages  in  praise  of  wine 
could  be  collected  from  Arabian  and  Persian  poets. 


UARDA.  32t 

«  That  it  does,  that  it  certainly  does  !    Now  the  governor 
of  Hermonthis,  the  oldest  of  all  the  company. 

-Wine  ripens  especially  for  us  old  folks,  and  not  for 

cried  a  voice  from  the  table 
°f^2^enof  the  old,"  laughed  the  octo- 

^h^you^e^e  to  fear  from  it  alas !"  said 
C  ^abu  lau-hing.     ' '  Proceed,  my  lord  of  the  chase. 
^^erimoWebeaker,''  was  the  answer    < is -  like  the 
Up  ol?he  woman  you  love.    Touch  it,  and  taste  it,  and  it 
is  as  good  as  the  kiss  of  a  bride. 

"General  the  turn  is  yours.  ^  , 

<^  wish  he  Nile  ran  with  such  wine  instead  of  with 
water  "  cried  the  soldier,  "and  that  I  were  as  big  as  the 
Colossus  of  Amenophis  and  that  the  biggest  obe hsk  of 
HatJsu*  were  my  drinking  vessel,  and  that  I  might  drink 
£  much  as  I  would  !    But  now-what  have  you  to  say  of 

atThe  golden  fluid  ;  he  tasted  it  slowly,  and  then  said  with  . 

b*<rS£P  iLtTam  unworthy  to  thank  the  gods  for 

SU«hWentid!"SeSxcfaimed  the  Regent  Ani,  who  had  re- 
entered the  room  unobserved.  "  If  my  wine  could  speak, 
it  would  thank  you  for  such  a  speech. 

"Hail  to  the  Regent  Ani!"  shouted  the  guests,  and 
they  a?l  rose  with  their  cups  filled  with  his  noble  present. 

He  Dlede-ed  them,  and  then  rose.  . 

"  ThPos?'  said  he,  "who  have  appreciated  his  wine 
now  invite  to  dine  with  me  to-morrow.    You  will  then 
nTt  witfi  it  again,  and  if  you  still  find  it  to  your  liking, 

*This  obelisk  is  still  standing  at  Karnak,  and  is  tM$rW 
high     That  which  was  taken  to  Paris  from  Luqsor,  and  wh.ch  stands 
on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  is  eleven  meters  less. 


322 


UARDA. 


you  will  be  heartily  welcome  any  evening.  Now,  good- 
night, friends." 

A  thunder  of  applause  followed  him  as  he  quitted  the 
room. 

The  morning  was  already  gray  when  the  carousing 
party  broke  up  ;  few  of  the  guests  could  find  their  way  un- 
assisted through  the  courtyard  ;  most  of  them  had  already 
been  carried  away  by  the  slaves  who  had  waited  for  them 
— and  who  took  them  on  their  heads  like  bales  of  goods — 
and  had  been  borne  home  in  their  litters  ;  but  for  those 
who  remained  to  the  end,  couches  were  prepared  in  the 
House  of  Seti,  for  a  terrific  storm  was  now  raging. 

While  the  company  were  filling  and  refilling  the  beakers, 
which  raised  their  spirits  to  so  wild  a  pitch,  the  prisoner 
Pentaur  had  been  examined  in  the  presence  of  the  regent. 
Ameni's  messenger  had  found  the  poet  on  his  knees,  so 
absorbed  in  meditation  that  he  did  not  perceive  his  ap- 
proach. All  his  peace  of  mind  had  deserted  him,  his  soul 
was  in  a  tumult,  and  he  could  not  succeed  in  obtaining 
any  calm  and  clear  control  over  the  new  life-pulses  which 
were  throbbing  in  his  heart. 

He  had  hitherto  never  gone  to  rest  at  night  without  re- 
quiring of  himself  an  account  of  the  past  day,  and  he  had 
always  been  able  to  detect  the  most  subtle  line  that  divided 
right  from  wrong  in  his  actions.  But  to-night  he  looked 
back  on  a  perplexing  confusion  of  ideas  and  events,  and 
when  he  endeavored  to  sort  them  and  arrange  them,  he 
could  see  nothing  clearly  but  the  image  of  Bent-Anat, 
which  enthralled  his  heart  and  intellect. 

He  had  raised  his  hand  against  his  fellow-men,  and 
dipped  it  in  blood  ;  he  desired  to  convince  himself  of  his 
sin,  and  to  repent — but  he  could  not  ;  for  each  time  he  re- 
called it,  to  blame  and  condemn  himself,  he  saw  the 
soldier's  hand  twisted  in  Uarda's  hair,  and  the  princess'  eyes 
beaming  with  approbation,  nay  with  admiration,  and  he 
said  to  himself  that  he  had  acted  rightly,  and  in  the  same 
position  would  do  the  same  again  to-morrow.  Still  he  felt 
that  he  had  broken  through  all  the  conditions  with  which 
fate  had  surrounded  his  existence,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  could  never  succeed  in  recovering  the  still,  narrow,, 
but  peaceful  life  of  the  past. 


UARDA. 


323 


His  soul  went  up  in  prayer  to  the  Almighty  One,  and  to 
the  spirit  of  the  sweet  humble  woman  whom  he  had  called 
his  mother,  imploring  for  peace  of  mind  and  modest  con- 
tent ;  but  in  vain — for  the  longer  he  remained  prostrate, 
flinging  up  his  arms  in  passionate  entreaty,  the  keener 
grew  his  longings,  the  less  he  felt  able  to  repent  or  to  rec- 
ognize his  guilt.  Ameni's  order  to  appear  before  him 
came  almost  as  a  deliverance,  and  he  followed  the  messen- 
ger prepared  for  a  severe  struggle  ;  but  not  afraid — almost 
joyful. 

In  obedience  to  the  command  of  the  grave  high-priest, 
Pentaur  related  the  whole  occurrence — how,  as  there  was 
no  leech  in  the  house,  he  had  gone  with  the  old  wife  of 
the  paraschites  to  visit  her  possessed  husband ;  how,  to 
save  the  unhappy  girl  from  ill-usage  by  the  mob,  he  had 
raised  his  hand  in  fight,  and  dealt  indeed  some  heavy 
blows. 

' '  You  have  killed  four  men, "  said  Ameni,  ' •  and  severely 
wounded  twice  as  many.  Why  did  you  not  reveal 
yourself  as  a  priest,  as  the  speaker  of  the  morning's 
discourse?  Why  did  you  not  endeavor  to  persuade,  the 
people  with  words  of  warning,  rather  than  with  brute 
force  ? " 

"I  had  no  priest's  garment,"  replied  Pentaur. 

"  There  again  you  did  wrong/' said  Ameni,  "  for  you 
know  that  the  law  requires  of  each  of  us  never  to  leave 
this  house  without  our  white  robes.  But  you  cannot 
pretend  not  to  know  your  own  powers  of  speech,  nor  to 
contradict  me  when  I  assert  that,  even  in  the  plainest 
working-dress  you  were  perfectly  able  to  produce  as  much 
effect  with  words  as  by  deadly  blows  J  " 

''I  might  very  likely  have  succeeded,"  answered  Pen- 
taur, "but  the  most  savage  temper  ruled  the  crowd; 
there  was  no  time  for  reflection,  and  when  I  struck  down 
the  villain,  like  some  reptile,  who  had  seized  the  innocent 
girl,  the  lust  of  fighting  took  possession  of  me.  I  cared 
no  more  for  my  own  life,  and  to  save  the  child  I  would 
have  slain  thousands." 

"  Your  eyes  sparkle,"  said  Ameni,  "as  if  you  had  per- 
formed some  heroic  feat  ;  and  yet  the  men  you  killed 
were  only  unarmed  and  pious  citizens,  who  were  roused 
to  indignation  by  a  gross  and  shameless  outrage.    I  can- 


324 


UARDA. 


not  conceive  whence  the  warrior-spirit  should  have  fallen 
on  a  gardener's  son — and  a  minister  of  the  gods." 

"It  is  true,"  answered  Pentaur,  "when  the  crowd 
rushed  upon  me,  and  I  drove  them  back,  putting  out  all 
my  strength,  I  felt  something  of  the  warlike  rage  of  the 
soldier,  who  repulses  the  pressing  foe  from  the  standard 
committed  to  his  charge.  It  was  sinful  in  a  priest,  no 
doubt,  and  I  will  repent  of  it — but  I  felt  it." 

"You  felt  it — and  you  will  repent  of  it,  well  and  good," 
replied  Ameni.  "But  you  have  not  given  a  true  account 
of  all  that  happened.  Why  have  you  concealed  that  Bent- 
Anat — Rameses'  daughter — was  mixed  up  in  the  fray,  and 
that  she  saved  you  by  announcing  her  name  to  the  people, 
and  commanding  them  to  leave  you  alone  ?  When  you 
gave  her  the  lie  before  all  the  people,  was  it  because  you 
did  not  believe  that  it  was  Bent-Anat  ?  Now,  you  who 
stand  so  firmly  on  so  high  a  platform— now  you  standard- 
bearer  of  the  truth — answer  me." 

Pentaur  had  turned  pale  at  his  masters  words,  and  said, 
as  he  looked  at  the  regent  : 

"  WTe  are  not  alone." 

"Truth  is  one  !  "  said  Ameni,  coolly.  "  What  you  can 
reveal  to  me,  can  also  be  heard  by  this  noble  lord,  the 
regent  of  the  king  himself.  Did  you  recognize  Bent-Anat, 
or  not  ? " 

"The  lady  who  rescued  me  was  like  her,  and  yet  un- 
like," answered  the  poet,  whose  blood  was  roused  by  the 
subtle  irony  of  his  superior's  words.  "And  if  I  had  been 
as  sure  that  she  was  the  princess,  as  I  am  that  you  are 
the  man  who  once  held  me  in  honor,  and  who  are  now 
trying  to  humiliate  me,  I  would  all  the  more  have  acted 
as  I  did  to  spare  a  lady  who  is  more  like  a  goddess  than  a 
woman,  and  who,  to  save  an  unworthy  wretch  like  me, 
stooped  from  a  throne  to  the  dust." 

"Still  the  poet— the  preacher  !  "  said  Ameni.  Then  he 
added  severely,  "I  beg  for  a  short  and  clear  answer.  We 
know  for  certain  that  the  princess  took  part  in  the  festival 
in  the  disguise  of  a  woman  of  low  rank,  for  she  again 
declared  herself  to  Paaker  ;  and  we  know  that  it  was  she 
who  saved  you.  But  did  you  know  that  she  meant  to 
come  across  the  Nile  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  ?  "  asked  Pentaur. 


UARDA. 


"  Well,  did  you  believe  that  it  was  Bent-Anat  whom  you 
saw  before  you  when  she  ventured  on  to  the  scene  of 
conflict  ?  " 

'  *  I  did  believe  it, 99  replied  Pentaur  ;  he  shuddered  and 
cast  down  his  eyes. 

' 'Then  it  was  most  audacious  to  drive  away  the  kings 
daughter  as  an  impostor/' 

'  'It  was/'  said  Pentaur.  "But  for  my  sake  she  had 
risked  the  honor  of  her  name,  and  that  of  her  royal  father, 
and  I — I  should  not  have  risked  my  life  and  freedom 
for  " 

"We  have  heard  enough,"  interrupted  Ameni. 

' 1  Not  so,"  the  regent  interposed.  "What  became  of 
the  girl  you  had  saved  ?  99 

"An  old  witch,  Hekt  by  name,  a  neighbor  of  Pinem's, 
took  her  and  her  grandmother  into  her  cave,"  answered 
the  poet  ;  who  was  then,  by  the  high-priest's  order,  taken 
back  to  the  temple-prison. 

Scarcely  had  he  disappeared  when  the  regent  exclaimed  : 

"A  dangerous  man  !  an  enthusiast  !  an  ardent  wor- 
shiper of  Rameses  ! " 

' '  And  of  his  daughter, "  laughed  Ameni,  "  but  only  a  wor- 
shiper. Thou  hast  nothing  to  fear  from  him — I  will  an- 
swer for  the  purity  of  his  motives. "  . 

"But  he  is  handsome  and  of  powerful  speech,"  replied 
Ani.  "I  claim  him  as  my  prisoner,  for  he  has  killed  one 
of  my  soldiers." 

Ameni's  countenance  darkened,  and  he  answered  very 
sternly  ; 

"  It  is  the  exclusive  right  of  our  conclave,  as  established 
by  our  charter,  to  judge  any  member  of  this  fraternity. 
You,  the  future  king,  have  freely  promised  to  secure  our 
privileges  to  us,  the  champions  of  your  own  ancient  and 
sacred  rights. " 

"And  you  shall  have  them,"  answered  the  regent,  with 
a  persuasive  smile.  "  But  this  man  is  dangerous,  and  you 
would  not  have  him  go  unpunished  ?  " 

* '  He  shall  be  severely  judged, "  said  Ameni,  ' '  but  by  us 
and  in  this  house." 

"  He  has  committed  murder  !  "  cried  Ani.  "  More  than 
one  murder.    He  is  worthy  of  death." 

"  He  acted  under  pressure  of  necessity,"  replied  Ameni. 


326 


UARDA. 


"  And  a  man  so  favored  by  the  gods  as  he  is  not  to  be 
lightly  given  up  because  an  untimely  impulse  of  gener- 
osity prompted  him  to  rash  conduct.  I  know — I  can  see 
that  you  wish  him  ill.  Promise  me,  as  you  value  me  as  an 
ally,  that  you  will  not  attempt  his  life." 

"Oh,  willingly!  "smiled  the  regent,  giving  the  high- 
priest  his  hand. 

"Accept  my  sincere  thanks,"  said  Ameni.  "  Pentaur 
was  the  most  promising  of  my  disciples,  and  in  spite  of 
many  aberrations  I  still  esteem  him  highly.  When  he  was 
telling  us  of  what  had  occurred  to-day,  did  he  not  remind 
you  of  the  great  Assa,  or  of  his  gallant  son,  the  Osirian 
father  of  the  pioneer  Paaker  ?  " 

"The  likeness  is  extraordinary,"  answered  Ani,  "and 
yet  he  is  of  quite  humble  birth.    Who  was  his  mother  ? " 

"Our  gate-keeper's  daughter,  a  plain,  pious,  simple 
creature/' 

"  Now  I  will  return  to  the  banqueting-hall,"  said  Ani, 
after  a  few  moments  of  reflection.  "  But  I  must  ask  you 
one  thing  more.  I  spoke  to  you  of  a  secret  that  will  put 
Paaker  into  our  power.  The  old  sorceress  Hekt,  who  has 
taken  charge  of  the  paraschites'  wife  and  grandchild, 
knows  all  about  it.  Send  some  police-guard  over  there, 
and  let  her  be  brought  over  here  as  a  prisoner  ;  I  will 
examine  her  rtiyself,  and  so  can  question  her  without 
exciting  observation." 

Ameni  at  once  sent  off  a  party  of  soldiers,  and  then 
quietly  ordered  a  faithful  attendant  to  light  up  the  so- 
called  audience-chamber,  and  to  put  a  seat  for  him  in 
an  adjoining  room. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

i 

While  the  banquet  was  going  forward  at  the  temple, 
and  Ameni's  messengers  were  on  their  way  to  the  valley 
of  the  kings'  tombs,  to  waken  up  old  Hekt,  a  furious 
storm  of  hot  wind  came  up  from  the  south-west,  sweeping 
black  clouds  across  the  sky,  and  brown  clouds  of  dust 
across  the  earth.    It  bowed  the  slender  palm-trees  as  an 


UARDA. 


3*7 


archer  bends  his  bow,  tore  the  tent  pegs  up  on  the  scene 
of  the  festival,  whirled  the  light  tent-cloths  up  in  the  air, 
drove  them  like  white  witches  through  the  dark  night,  and 
thrashed  the  still  surface  of  the  Nile  till  its  yellow  waters 
swirled  and  tossed  in  waves  like  a  restless  sea. 

Paaker  had  compelled  his  trembling  slaves  to  row  him 
across  the  stream  ;  several  times  the  boat  was  near  being 
swamped,  but  he  had  seized  the  helm  himself  with  his  un- 
injured hand,  and  guided  it  firmly  and  surely,  though  the 
rocking  of  the  boat  kept  his  broken  hand  in  great  and  con- 
stant pain.  After  a  few  ineffectual  attempts  he  succeeded 
in  landing.  The  storm  had  blown  out  the  lanterns  at  the 
masts — the  signal  lights  for  which  his  people  looked — and 
he  found  neither  servants  nor  torch-bearers  on  the  bank, 
so  he  struggled  through  the  scorching  wind  as  far  as  the 
gate  of  his  house.  His  big  dog  had  always  been  wont  to 
announce  his  return  home  to  the  door-keeper  with  joyful 
barking  ;  but  to-night  the  boatman  long  knocked  in  vain 
at  the  heavy  door.  When  at  last  he  entered  the  court- 
yard, he  found  all  dark,  for  the  wind  had  extinguished 
the  lanterns  and  torches,  and  there  were  no  lights  but  in 
the  windows  of  his  mothers  rooms. 

The  dogs  in  their  open  kennels  now  began  to  make 
themselves  heard,  but  their  tones  were  plaintive  and  whin- 
ing, for  the  storm  had  frightened  the  beasts  ;  their  howling 
cut  the  pioneer  to  the  heart,  for  it  reminded  him  of  the 
poor  slain  Descher,  whose  deep  voice  he  sadly  missed ; 
and  when  he  went  into  his  own  room  he  was  met  by  a 
wild  cry  of  lamentation  from  the  Ethiopian  slave,  for  the 
dog  which  he  had  trained  for  Paaker's  father,  and  which 
he  had  loved. 

The  pioneer  threw  himself  on  a  seat,  and  ordered  some 
water  to  be  brought,  that  he  might  cool  his  aching  hand 
in  it,  according  to  the  prescription  of  Nebsecht. 

As  soon  as  the  old  man  saw  the  broken  fingers,  he  gave 
another  yell  of  woe,  and  when  Paaker  ordered  him  to 
cease,  he  asked  : 

"  And  is  the  man  still  alive  who  did  that,  and  who  killed 
Descher  ? " 

Paaker  nodded,  and  while  he  held  his  hand  in  the  cool- 
ing water  he  looked  sullenly  at  the  ground.  He  felt  mis- 
erable, and  he  asked  himself  why  the  storm  had  not 


328  UARDA. 

swamped  the  boat,  and  the  Nile  had  not  swallowed  him. 
Bitterness  and  rage  filled  his  breast,  and  he  wished  he 
were  a  child,  and  might  cry.  But  his  mood  soon  changed, 
his  breath  came  quickly,  his  breast  heaved,  and  an  ominous 
light  glowed  in  his  eyes.  He  was  not  thinking  of  his  love, 
but  of  the  revenge  which  was  even  dearer  to  him. 

"That  brood  of  Rameses  !  "  he  muttered.  "I  will 
sweep  them  all  away  together — the  king,  and  Mena,  and 
those  haughty  princes,  and  many  more — I  know  how. 
Only  wait,  only  wait !  "  and  he  flung  up  his  right  fist  with 
a  threatening  gesture. 

The  door  opened  at  this  instant,  and  his  mother  entered 
the  room  ;  the  raging  of  the  storm  had  drowned  the  sound 
of  her  steps,  and  as  she  approached  her  revengeful  son, 
she  called  his  name  in  horror  at  the  mad  wrath  which  was 
depicted  in  his  countenance.  Paaker  started,  and  then 
said,  with  apparent  composure  : 

cc Is  it  you,  mother?  It  is  near  morning,  and  it  is  better 
to  be  asleep  than  awake  in  such  an  hour." 

"I  could  not  rest  in  my  rooms,"  answered  Setchem. 
"The  storm  howled  so  wildly,  and  I  am  so  anxious,  so 
frightfully  unhappy — as  I  was  before  your  father  died. " 

' '  Then  stay  with  me, "  said  Paaker,  affectionately,  "  and 
lie  down  on  my  couch." 

"I  did  not  come  here  to  sleep,"  replied  Setchem.  "  I 
am  too  unhappy  at  all  that  happened  to  you  on  the  land- 
ing steps,  it  is  frightful !  No,  no,  my  son,  it  is  not  about 
your  smashed  hand,  though  it  grieves  me  to  see  you  in 
pain  ;  it  is  about  the  king,  and  his  anger  when  he  hears  of 
the  quarrel.  He  favors  you  less  than  he  did  your  lost 
father,  I  know  it  well.  But  how  wildly  you  smile,  how 
wild  you  looked  when  I  came  in  !  It  went  through  my 
bones  and  marrow." 

Both  were  silent  for  a  time,  and  listened  to  the  furious 
raging  of  the  storm.    At  last  Setchem  spoke. 

"There  is  something  else,"  she  said,  "which  disturbs 
my  mind.  I  know  the  poet  who  spoke  at  the  festival  to- 
day, young  Pentaur.  His  figure,  his  face,  his  movements, 
nay  his  very  voice,  are  exactly  like  those  of  your  father  at 
the  time  when  he  was  young,  and  courted  me.  It  is  as  if 
the  gods  were  fain  to  see  the  best  man  that  they  ever  took 
to  themselves  walk  before  them  a  second  time  upon  earth." 


UARDA. 


329 


'  'Yes,  my  lady,"  said  the  black  slave  ;  "no  mortal  eye 
ever  saw  such  a  likeness.  I  saw  him  fighting  in  front  of 
the  paraschites'  cottage,  and  he  was  more  like  my  dead 
master  than  ever.  He  swung  the  tent-post  over  his  head, 
as  my  lord  used  to  swing  his  battle-ax." 

"Be  silent,"  cried  Paaker,  "and  get  out — idiot!  The 
priest  is  like  my  father  ;  I  grant  it,  mother ;  but  he  is  an 
insolent  fellow,  who  offended  me  grossly,  and  with  whom 
I  have  to  reckon — as  with  many  others." 

"  How  violent  you  are  !  "  interrupted  his  mother,  "and 
how  full  of  bitterness  and  hatred.  Your  father  was  so 
sweet-tempered,  and  kind  to  everybody." 

"Perhaps  they  are  kind  to  me?"  retorted  Paaker,  with 
a  short  laugh.  "Even  the  Immortals  spite  me,  and  throw 
thorns  in  my  path.  But  I  will  push  them  aside  with  my 
own  hand,  and  will  attain  what  I  desire  without  the  help 
of  the  gods,  and  overthrow  all  that  oppose  me." 

"We  cannot  blow  away  a  feather  without  the  help  of 
the  Immortals, "  answered  Setchem.  ' '  So  your  father  used 
to  say,  who  was  a  very  different  man  both  in  body  and 
mind  from  you.  I  tremble  before  you  this  evening,  and 
at  the  curses  you  have  uttered  against  the  children  of  your 
lord  and  sovereign,  your  fathers  best  friend." 

"But  my  enemy,"  shouted  Paaker.  "You  will  get 
nothing  from  me  but  curses.  And  the  brood  of  Rameses 
shall  learn  whether  your  husband's  son  will  let  himself  be 
ill  used  and  scorned  without  revenging  himself.  I  will 
fling  them  into  an  abyss,  and  I  will  laugh  when  I  see  them 
writhing  in  the  sand  at  my  feet !  " 

"Fool  !"  cried  Setchem,  beside  herself.  "I  am  but  a 
woman,  and  have  often  blamed  myself  for  being  soft  and 
weak ;  but  as  sure  as  I  am  faithful  to  your  dead  father — 
whom  you  are  no  more  like  than  a  bramble  is  like  a  palm- 
tree — so  surely  will  I  tear  my  love  for  you  out  of  my  heart 
if  you — if  you —  Now  I  see  !  now  I  know  !  Answer  me 
— murderer !  Where  are  the  seven  arrows  with  the 
wicked  words  which  used  to  hang  here  ?  Where  are  the 
arrows  on  which  you  had  scrawled  '  Death  to  Mena  ? '  " 

With  these  words  Setchem  breathlessly  started  forward, 
but  the  pioneer  drew  back  as  she  confronted  him.  as  in  his 
youthful  days  when  she  threatened  to  punish  him  for  some 
misdemeanor.    She  followed  him  up,  caught  him  by  the 


33° 


UARDA. 


girdle,  and  in  a  hoarse  voice  repeated  her  question.  He 
stood  still,  .snatched  her  hand  angrily  from  his  belt,  and 
said  defiantly  : 

"I  have  put  them  in  my  quiver — and  not  for  mere  play. 
Now  you  know." 

Incapable  of  words,  the  maddened  woman  once  more 
raised  her  hand  against  her  degenerate  son,  but  he  put 
back  her  arm. 

"  I  am  no  longer  a  child,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am  master 
of  this  house.  I  will  do  what  I  will,  if  a  hundred  women 
hindered  me  !  "  and  with  these  words  he  pointed  to  the 
door.  Setchem  broke  into  loud  sobs,  and  turned  her  back 
upon  him  ;  but  at  the  door  once  more  she  turned  to  look 
at  him.  He  had  seated  himself,  and  was  resting  his  fore- 
head on  the  table  on  which  the  bowl  of  cold  water  stood. 

Setchem  fought  a  hard  battle.  At  last  once  more 
through  her  choking  tears  she  called  his  name,  opened 
her  arms  wide  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Here  I  am — here  I  am  !  Come  to  my  heart,  only  give 
up  those  hideous  thoughts  of  revenge." 

But  Paaker  did  not  move,  he  did  not  look  up  at  her,  he 
did  not  speak ;  he  only  shook  his  head  in  negation. 
Setchem's  hands  fell  and  she  said,  softly  : 

"  What  did  your  father  teach  you  out  of  the  scriptures  ? 
'Your  highest  praise  consists  in  this,  to  reward  your 
mother  for  what  she  has  done  for  you,  in  bringing  you  up, 
so  that  she  may  not  raise  her  hands  to  God,  nor  He  hear 
her  lamentation/  " 

At  these  words  Paaker  sobbed  aloud,  but  he  did  not 
look  at  his  mother.  She  called  him  tenderly  by  his  name  ; 
then  her  eyes  fell  on  his  quiver,  which  lay  on  a  bench 
with  other  arms.  Her  heart  shrunk  within  her,  and  with 
a  trembling  voice  she  exclaimed  : 

"I  forbid  this  mad  vengeance — do  you  hear?  Will 
you  give  it  up  ?  You  do  not  move  ?  No  !  you  will  not  ! 
Ye  gods,  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

She  wrung  her  hands  in  despair  ;  then  she  hastily 
crossed  the  room,  snatched  out  one  of  the  arrows,  and 
strove  to  break  it.  Paaker  sprang  from  his  seat  and 
wrenched  the  weapon  from  her  hand  ;  the  sharp  point 
slightly  scratched  the  skin,  and  dark  drops  of  blood  flowed 
from  it  and  dropped  upon  the  floor. 


UARDA. 


331 


The  Mohar  would  have  taken  the  wounded  hand,  for 
Setchem,  who  had  the  weakness  of  never  being  able  to 
see  blood  flow — neither  her  own  nor  anybody's  else — had 
turned  as  pale  as  death  ;  but  she  pushed  him  from  her, 
and  as  she  spoke  her  gentle  voice  had  a  dull  estranged 
tone. 

"  This  hand/'  she  said — "  a  mothers  hand  wounded  by 
her  son — shall  never  again  grasp  yours  till  you  have 
sworn  a  solemn  oath  to  put  away  from  you  all  thoughts 
of  revenge  and  murder,  and  not  to  disgrace  your  father's 
name.  I  have  said  it,  and  may  his  glorified  spirit  be  my 
witness  and  give  me  strength  to  keep  my  word  ! " 

Paaker  had  fallen  on  his  knees,  and  was  engaged  in  a 
terrible  mental  struggle,  while  his  mother  slowly  went  to- 
ward the  door.  There  again  she  stood  still  for  a  moment ; 
she  did  not  speak,  but  her  eyes  appealed  to  him  once 
more. 

In  vain.  At  last  she  left  the  room,  and  the  wind 
slammed  the  door  violently  behind  her.  Paaker  groaned, 
and  pressed  his  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  Mother,  mother  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  cannot  go  back — I 
cannot." 

A  fearful  gust  of  wind  howled  round  the  house  and 
drowned  his  voice,  and  then  he  heard  two  tremendous 
claps,  as  if  rocks  had  been  hurled  from  heaven.  He 
started  up  and  went  to  the  window,  where  the  melancholy 
gray  dawn  was  showing,  in  order  to  call  the  slaves,  Soon 
they  came  trooping  out,  and  the  steward  called  out  as 
soon  as  he  saw  him  : 

"The  storm  has  blown  down  the  masts  at  the  great 
gate  !  " 

"  Impossible  !  "  cried  Paaker. 

"Yes,  indeed  !"  answered  the  servant.  "They  have 
been  sawn  through  close  to  the  ground.  The  mat-maker 
no  doubt  did  it,  whose  collar-bone  was  broken.  He  has 
escaped  in  this  fearful  night." 

"  Let  out  the  dogs,"  cried  the  Mohar.  "All  who  have 
legs  run  after  the  blackguard  !  Freedom  and  five  hand- 
fuls  of  gold  for  the  man  who  brings  him  back. " 

The  guests  at  the  House  of  Seti  had  already  gone  to 
rest,  when  Ameni  was  informed  of  the  arrival  of  the  sor- 


33* 


UARDA. 


ceress,  and  he  at  once  went  into  the  hall,  where  Anl  was 
waiting  to  see  her  ;  the  regent  roused  himself  from  a  deep 
reverie  when  he  heard  the  high-priest's  steps. 

"Is  she  come?  "he  asked  hastily;  when  Ameni  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative  Ani  went  on — meanwhile  care- 
fully disentangling  the  disordered  curls  of  his  wig,  and 
arranging  his  broad,  collar-shaped  necklace. 

"The  witch  may  exercise  some  influence  over  me; 
will  you  not  give  me  your  blessing  to  preserve  me  from 
her  spells  ?  It  is  true,  I  have  on  me  this  Horus-eye,  and 
this  Isis-charm,  but  one  never  knows  " 

"My  presence  will  be  your  safeguard, "  said  Ameni. 
"But — no,  of-course  you  wish  to  speak  with  her  alone. 
You  shall  be  conducted  to  a  room,  which  is  protected 
against  all  witchcraft  by  sacred  texts.  My  brother,"  he 
continued  to  one  of  the  serving  priests,  "let  the  witch  be 
taken  into  one  of  the  consecrated  rooms,  and  then,  when 
you  have  sprinkled  the  threshold,  lead  my  lord  Ani 
thither." 

The  high-priest  went  away,  and  into  a  small  room  which 
adjoined  the  hall  where  the  interview  between  the  regent 
and  the  old  woman  was  about  to  take  place,  and  where 
the  softest  whisper  spoken  in  the  larger  room  could  be 
heard  by  means  of  an  ingeniously  contrived  and  invisible 
tube. 

When  Ani  saw  the  old  woman,  he  started  back  in  hor- 
ror ;  her  appearance  at  this  moment  was,  in  fact,  fright- 
ful. The  storm  had  tossed  and  torn  her  garments  and 
tumbled  all  her  thick,  white  hair  so  that  locks  of  it  fell 
over  her  face.  She  leaned  on  a  staff,  and  bending  far  for- 
ward looked  steadily  at  the  regent ;  and  her  eyes,  red  and 
smarting  from  the  sand  which  the  wind  had  flung  in  her 
face,  seemed  to  glow  as  she  fixed  them  on  his.  She 
looked  as  a  hyena  might  when  creeping  to  seize  its  prey, 
and  Ani  felt  a  cold  shiver  as  he  heard  her  hoarse  voice 
addressing  him  to  greet  him,  and  to  represent  that  he  had 
chosen      •<  range  hour  for  requiring  her  to  speak  with  him. 

When  s»:ij  had  thankea  nim  for  his  promise  of  renewing 
her  letter  of  freedom,  and  had  confirmed  the  statement 
that  Paaker  had  had  a  love-philter  from  her,  she  parted 
her  hair  from  off  her  face — it  occurred  to  her  that  she  was 
a  woman. 


UARDA, 


333 


The  regent  sat  in  an  arm-chair,  she  stood  before  him  ; 
but  the  struggle  with  the  storm  had  tired  her  old  limbs, 
and  she  begged  Ani  to  permit  her  to  be  seated,  as  she  had 
a  long  story  to  tell,  which  would  put  Paaker  into  his 
power,  so  that  he  would  find  him  as  yielding  as  wax. 
The  regent  signed  her  to  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  she 
squatted  down  on  the  pavement. 

When  he  desired  her  to  proceed  with  her  story,  she 
looked  at  the  floor  for  some  time  in  silence,  and  then  be- 
gan, as  if  half  to  herself  : 

"  I  will  tell  thee,  that  I  may  find  peace — 1  do  not  want, 
when  I  die,  to  be  buried  unembalmed.  Who  knows  but 
perhaps  strange  things  may  happen  in  the  other  world, 
and  I  would  not  wish  to  miss  them.  I  want  to  see  him 
again  down  there,  even  if  it  were  in  the  seventh  limbo  of 
the  damned.  Listen  to  me  !  But,  before  I  speak,  promise 
me  that  whatever  I  tell  thee,  thou  wilt  leave  in  peace,  and 
wilt  see  that  I  am  embalmed  when  I  am  dead.  Else  I 
will  not  speak. " 

Ani  bowed  consent. 

"No — no,"  she  said.  "  I  will  tell  thee  what  to  swear  : 
'  If  I  do  not  keep  my  word  to  Hekt — who  gives  the  Mohar 
into  my  power — may  the  spirits,  whom  she  rules,  annihi- 
late me  before  I  mount  the  throne.'  Do  not  be  vexed, 
my  lord — and  say  only  '  Yes/  What  I  can  tell  is  worth 
more  than  a  mere  word." 

"Well  then — yes!"  cried  the  regent,  eager  for  the 
mighty  revelation. 

The  old  woman  muttered  a  few  unintelligible  words  ; 
then  she  collected  herself,  stretched  out  her  lean  neck, 
and  asked,  as  she  fixed  her  sparkling  eyes  on  the  man 
before  her  : 

u  Didst  thou  ever,  when  thou  wert  young,  hear  of  the 
singer  Beki  ?    Well,  look  at  me — I  am  she." 

She  laughed  loud  and  hoarsely,  and  drew  her  tattered 
robe  across  her  bosom,  as  if  half  ashamed  of  her  unpleas- 
ing  person. 

"  Ay  !  "  she  continued.  "  Men  find  pleasure  in  grapes 
by  treading  them  down,  and  when  the  must  is  drunk  the 
skins  are  thrown  on  the  dung-hill.  Grape-skins,  that  is 
what  I  am — but  you  need  not  look  at  me  so  pitifully  ;  I 
was  grapes  once,  and  poor  and  despised  as  I  am  now,  no 


334 


UARDA. 


7 


one  can  take  from  me  what  I  have  had  and  have  been. 
Mine  has  been  a  life  out  of  a  thousand,  a  complete  life, 
full  to  overflowing  of  joy  and  suffering,  of  love  and  hate, 
of  delight,  despair  and  revenge.  Only  to  talk  of  it  raises 
me  to  a  seat  by  thy  throne  there.  No,  let  me  be,  I  am  used 
now  to  squatting  on  the  ground ;  but  I  knew  thou  wouldst 
hear  me  to  the  end,  for  once  I  too  was  one  of  you.  Ex- 
tremes meet  in  all  things — I  know  it  by  experience.  The 
greatest  men  will  hold  out  a  hand  to  a  beautiful  woman,  and 
time  was  when  I  could  lead  you  all  as  with  a  rope.  Shall 
I  begin  at  the  beginning  ?  Well— I  seldom  am  in  the  mood 
for  it  nowadays.  Fifty  years  ago  I  sang  a  song  with  this 
voice  of  mine;  an  old  crow  like  me  sing?  But  so  it  was. 
My  father  was  a  man  of  rank,  the  governor  of  Abydos  ; 
when  the  first  Rameses  took  possession  of  the  throne  my 
father  was  faithful  to  the  house  of  thy  fathers,  so  the  new 
king  sent  us  all  to  the  gold  mines,  and  there  they  all  died 
—my  parents,  brothers,  and  sisters.  I  only  survived  by 
some  miracle.  As  I  was  handsome  and  sang  well,  a  music 
master  took  me  into  his  band,  brought  me  to  Thebes,  and 
wherever  there  was  a  feast  given  in  any  great  house, 
Beki  was  in  request.  Of  flowers  and  money  and  tender 
looks  I  had  a  plentiful  harvest  ;  but  I  was  proud  and 
cold,  and  the  misery  of  my  people  had  made  me  bitter 
at  an  age  when  usually  even  bad  liquor  tastes  of 
honey.  Not  one  of  all  the  gay  young  fellows,  princes' 
sons  and  nobles,  dared  to  touch  my  hand.  But  my  hour 
was  to  come  ;  the  handsomest  and  noblest  man  of  them 
all,  and  grave  and  dignified  too,  was  Assa,  the  old  Mohars 
father,  and  grandfather  of  Pentaur— no,  I  should  say  of 
Paaker  the  pioneer ;  thou  hast  known  him.  Well,  wherever 
I  sang,  he  sat  opposite  me,  and  gazed  at  me,  and  I 
could  not  take  my  eyes  off  him,  and— thou  canst  tell 
the  rest  !— no  !  Well,  no  woman  before  or  after  me  can 
ever  love  a  man  as  I  loved  Assa.  Why— dost  thou  not 
laugh  ?  It  must  seem  odd,  too,  to  hear  such  a  thing  from 
the  toothless  mouth  of  an  old  witch.  He  is  dead,  long 
since  dead.  I  hate  him  !  and  yet— wild  as  it  sounds— I 
believe  I  love  him  yet.  And  he  loved  me— for  two  years  ; 
then  he  went  to  the  war  with  Seti,  and  remained  a  long 
time  away,  and  when  I  saw  him  again  he  had  courted  the 
daughter  of  some  rich  and  noble  house.    I  was  handsome 


UARDA. 


335 


enough  still,  but  he  never  looked  at  me  at  the  banquets. 
I  came  across  him  at  least  twenty  times,  but  he  avoided 
me  as  if  I  were  tainted  with  leprosy,  and  I  began  to  fret, 
and  fell  ill  of  a  fever.  The  doctors  said  it  was  all  over 
with  me,  so  I  sent  him  a  letter  in  which  there  was  nothing 
but  these  words  :  '  Beki  is  dying,  and  would  like  to  see  Assa 
once  more/  and  in  the  papyrus  I  put  his  first  present — a 
plain  ring.  And  what  was  the  answer?  a  handful  of 
gold  !  Gold — gold  !  Thou  may 'st  believe  me,  when  I  say 
that  the  sight  of  it  was  more  torturing  to  my  eyes  than  the 
iron  with  which  they  put  out  the  eyes  of  criminals.  Even 

now,  when  I  think  of  it  But  what  do  you  men,  you 

lords  of  rank  and  wealth,  know  of  a  breaking  heart  ?  When 
two  or  three  of  you  happen  to  meet,  and  if  thou  shouldst 
tell  the  story,  the  most  respectable  will  say  in  a  pompous 
voice  :  '  The  man  acted  nobly  indeed  ;  he  was  married,  and 
his  wife  would  have  complained  with  justice  if  he  had 
gone  to  see  the  singer.'  Am  I  right  or  wrong?  I  know  ; 
not  one  will  remember  that  the  other  was  a  woman,  a  feel- 
ing human  being  ;  it  will  occur  to  no  one  that  his  deed  on 
the  one  hand  saved  an  hour  of  discomfort,  and  on  the  other 
wrought  half  a  century  of  despair.  Assa  escaped  his  wife's 
scolding,  but  a  thousand  curses  have  fallen  on  him  and  on 
his  house.  How  virtuous  he  felt  himself  when  he  had 
crushed  and  poisoned  a  passionate  heart  that  had  never 
ceased  to  love  him  !  Ay,  and  he  would  have  come  if  he 
had  not  still  felt  some  love  for  me,  if  he  had  not  mis- 
doubted himself,  and  feared  that  the  dying  woman  might 
once  more  light  up  the  fire  he  had  so  carefully  smothered 
and  crushed  out.  I  would  have  grieved  for  him — but  that 
he  should  send  me  money,  money  ! — that  I  have  never  for- 
given ;  that  he  shall  atone  for  in  his  grandchild."  The  old 
woman  spoke  the  last  words  as  if  in  a  dream,  and  without 
seeming  to  remember  her  hearer.  Ani  shuddered,  as  if  he 
were  in  the  presence  of  a  madwoman,  and  he  involunta- 
rily drew  his  chair  back  a  little  way. 

The  witch  observed  this  :  she  took  breath  and  went  on  : 
"  You  lords,  who  walk  in  high  places,  do  not  know  how 
things  go  on  in  the  depths  beneath  you — you  do  not  choose 
to  know. 

"But  I  will  shorten  my  story.  I  got  well,  but  I  got  out 
of  my  bed  thin  and  voiceless.    I  had  plenty  of  money, 


336 


UARDA. 


and  I  spent  it  in  buying  of  every  one  who  professed  magi/ 
in  Thebes,  potions  to  recover  Assa's  love  for  me,  or  in 
paying  for  spells  to  be  cast  on  him,  or  for  magic  drinks  io 
destroy  him.  I  tried  too  to  recover  my  voice,  but  the 
medicines  I  took  for  it  made  it  rougher,  not  sweeter.  Then 
an  excommunicated  priest,  who  was  famous  among  the 
magicians,  took  me  into  his  house,  and  there  I  learned 
many  things  ;  his  old  companions  afterward  turned  upon 
him,  he  came  over  here  into  the  Necropolis,  and  I  came 
with  him.  When  at  last  he  was  taken  and  hanged,  I  re- 
mained in  his  cave,  and  myself  took  to  witchcraft.  Chil- 
dren point  their  fingers  at  me,  honest  men  and  women 
avoid  me,  I  am  an  abomination  to  all  men,  nay  to  myself. 
And  one  only  is  guilty  of  all  this  ruin— the  noblest  gentle- 
man in  Thebes — the  pious  Assa. 

"  I  had  practiced  magic  for  several  years,  and  had  be- 
come learned  in  many  arts,  when  one  day  the  gardener 
Sent,  from  whom  I  was  accustomed  to  buy  plants  for  my 
mixtures — he  rents  a  plot  of  ground  from  the  temple  of 
Seti— Sent  brought  me  a  new-born  child  that  had  been 
born  with  six  toes  ;  I  was  to  remove  the  supernumerary 
toe  by  my  art.  The  pious  mother  of  the  child  was  lying 
ill  of  fever,  or  she  never  would  have  allowed  it ;  I  took  the 
screaming  little  wretch — for  such  things  are  sometimes 
curable.  The  next  morning,  a  few  hours  after  sunrise, 
there  was  a  bustle  in  front  of  my  cave  ;  a  maid,  evidently 
belonging  to  a  noble  house,  was  calling  me.  Her  rnistress, 
she  said,  had  come  with  her  to  visit  the  tomb  of  her 
fathers,  and  there  had  been  taken  ill,  and  had  given  birth 
to  a  child.  Her  mistress  wras  lying  senseless—  I  must  go 
at  once  and  help  her.  I  took  the  little  six-toed  brat  in  my 
cloak,  told  my  slave-girl  to  follow  me  with  water,  and  soon 
found  myself — as  thou  canst  guess — at  the  tomb  of  Assa. 
The  poor  woman,  who  lay  there  in  convulsions,  was  his 
daughter-in-law  Setchem.  The  baby,  a  boy,  was  as  sound 
as  a  nut,  but  she  was  evidently  in  great  danger.  I  sent 
the  maid  with  the  litter,  which  was  waiting  outside,  to  the 
temple  here  for  help  ;  the  girl  said  that  her  master,  the 
father  of  the  child,  was  at  the  war,  but  that  the  grandfather, 
the  noble  Assa,  had  promised  to  meet  the  lady  Setchem  at 
the  tomb,  and  would  shortly  be  coming  ;  then  she  disap- 
peared with  the  litter.    I  washed  the  child,  and  kissed  it 


UARDA. 


337 


as  ifit  were  my  own.  Then  I  heard  distant  steps  in  the 
valley,  and  the  recollection  of  the  moment  when  I,  lying 
at  the  point  of  death,  had  received  that  gift  of  money 
from  Assa  came  over  me,  and  then — I  do  not  know  myself 
how  it  happened — I  gave  the  new-born  grandchild  of  Assa 
to  my  slave-girl  and  told  her  to  carry  it  quickly  to  the 
cave,  and  I  wrapped  the  little  six-toed  baby  in  my  rags 
and  held  it  in  my  lap.  There  I  sat — and  the  minutes 
seemed  hours  till  Assa  came  up  ;  and  when  he  stood  before 
me,  grown  gray,  it  is  true,  but  still  handsome  and  upright 
— I  put  the  gardeners  boy,  the  six-toed  brat,  into  his  very 
arms,  and  a  thousand  demons  seemed  to  laugh  hoarsely 
within  me.  He  thanked  me,  he  did  not  know  me,  and 
once  more  he  offered  me  a  handful  of  gold.  I  took  it,  and 
I  listened  as  the  priest,  who  had  come  from  the  temple, 
prophesied  all  sorts  of  fine  things  for  the  little  one.  who 
was  born  in  so  fortunate  an  hour  ;  and  then  I  went  back 
into  my  cave,  and  there  I  laughed  till  I  cried,  though  I  do 
not  know  that  the  tears  sprang  from  the  laughter. 

"  A  few  days  after  I  gave  Assas  grandchild  to  the  gar- 
dener, and  told  him  the  sixth  toe  had  come  off;  1  had 
made  a  little  wound  on  his  foot  to  take  in  the  bumpkin. 
So  Assa's  grandchild,  the  son  of  the  Mohar,  grew  up  as  the 
gardener's  child,  and  received  the  name  of  Pentaur,  and 
he  was  brought  up  in  the  temple  here,  and  is  wonderfully 
like  Assa  ;  but  the  gardeners  monstrous  brat  is  the  pioneer 
Paaker.    That  is  the  whole  secret. " 

Ani  had  listened  in  silence  to  the  terrible  old  woman. 

We  are  involuntarily  committed  to  any  one  who  can  in- 
form us  of  some  absorbing  fact,  and  who  knows  how  to 
make  the  information  valuable.  It  did  not  occur  to  the 
regent  to  punish  the  witch  for  her  crimes  ;  he  thought 
rather  of  the  old  delights  when  she  had  spoken  of  the 
songs  and  the  beauty  of  the  singer  Beki.  He  looked 
at  the  woman,  and  a  cold  shiver  ran  through  all  his 
limbs. 

"  You  may  live  in  peace,"  he  said  at  last;  <(  and  when 
you  die  I  will  see  to  your  being  embalmed ;  but  give  up 
your  black  arts.  You  must  be  rich,  and,  if  you  are  not, 
say  what  you  need.  Indeed,  I  scarcely  dare  offer  you 
gold — it  excites  your  hatred,  as  I  understand/' 

"  I  could  take  thine — but  now  let  me  go  !  " 

22 


338  UARDA. 

She  got  up,  and  went  toward  the  door,  but  the  recent 
called  to  her  to  stop,  and  asked  : 

"Is  Assa  the  father  of  your  son  the  little  Nemu  ihe 
dwarf  of  the  lady  Katuti  ?  "  , 

The  witch  laughed  loudly.  "Is  the  little  wretch  like 
Assa  or  like  Beki?  I  picked  him  up  like  many  other 
children." 

"  But  he  is  clever  !  "  said  Ani. 

"  Ay— that  he  is.  He  has  planned  many  a  shrewd 
stroke,  and  is  devoted  to  his  mistress.  He  will  help  thee 
to  thy  purpose,  for  he  himself  has  one  too." 

"And  that  is  " 

"Katuti  will  rise  to  greatness  with  thee,  and  to  riches 
through  Paaker,  who  sets  out  to-morrow  to  make  the 
woman  he  loves  a  widow/' 

"You  know  a  great  deal,"  said  Ani,  meditatively,  "and 
I  would  ask  you  one  thing  more  ;  though  indeed  your 
story  has  supplied  the  answer— but  perhaps  you  know 
more  now  than  you  did  in  your  youth.  Is  there  in  truth 
any  effectual  love-philter?" 

"  I  will  not  deceive  thee,  for  I  desire  that  thou  shouldst 
keep  thy  word  to  me,"  replied  Hekt.  "  A  love  potion 
rarely  has  any  effect,  and  never  but  on  women  who  have 
never  before  loved.  If  it  is  given  to  a  woman  whose 
heart  is  filled  with  the  image  of  another  man,  her  passion 
for  him  only  will  grow  the  stronger." 

"Yet  another,"  said  Ani.  "Is  there  any  way  of 
destroying  an  enemy  at  a  distance?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  witch.  "Little  people  may  do 
mean  things,  and  great  people  can  let  others  do  things 
that  they  cannot  do  themselves.  My  story  has  stirred  thy 
gall,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  thou  dost  not  love  the  poet 
Pentaur.  A  smile  !  Well  then— I  have  not  lost  sight  of 
him,  and  I  know  he  is  grown  up  as  proud  and  as  hand- 
some as  Assa.  He  is  wonderfully  like  him,  and  I  could 
have  loved  him— have  loved  as  this  foolish  heart  had  bet- 
ter never  have  loved.  It  is  strange  !  In  many  women, 
who  come  to  me,  I  see  how  their  hearts  cling  to  the  children 
of  men  who  have  abandoned  them,  and  we  women  are  all 
alike  in  most  things.  But  I  will  not  let  myself  love  Assa  s 
grandchild— I  must  not.  I  will  injure  him,  and  help 
every  one  that  persecutes  him  ;  for  though  Assa  is  dead, 


UA£t)A. 


339 


the  wrongs  he  did  me  live  in  me  so  long  as  I  live  myself. 
Pentaur's  destiny  must  go  on  its  course.  If  thou  wilt 
have  his  life,  consult  with  Nemu,  for  he  hates  him  too, 
and  he  will  serve  thee  more  effectually  than  I  can  with 
my  vain  spells  and  silly  harmless  brews.  Now  let  me 
go  home  !  " 

A  few  hours  later  Ameni  sent  to  invite  the  regent  to 
breakfast. 

"Do  you  know  who  the  witch  Hekt  is?  "  asked  Ani. 

"Certainly — how  should  I  not  know?  She  is  the 
singer  Beki — the  former  enchantress  of  Thebes.  May  I 
ask  what  her  communications  were  ?  " 

Ani  thought  it  best  not  to  confide  the  secret  of  Pentaur's 
birth  to  the  high-priest,  and  answered  evasively.  Then 
Ameni  begged  to  be  allowed  to  give  him  some  informa- 
tion about  the  old  woman,  and  how  she  had  had  a  hand 
in  the  game  ;  and  he  related  to  his  hearer,  with  some  omis- 
sions and  variations — as  if  it  were  a  fact  he  had  long 
known — the  very  story  which  a  few  hours  since  he  had 
overheard,  and  learned  for  the  first  time.  Ani  feigned  great 
astonishment,  and  agreed  with  the  high-priest  that  Paaker 
should  not  for  the  present  be  informed  of  his  true  origin. 

"  He  is  a  strangely  constituted  man/'  said  Ameni,  "  and 
he  is  not  incapable  of  playing  us  some  unforeseen  trick 
before  he  had  done  his  part,  if  he  is  told  who  he  is." 

The  storm  had  exhausted  itself,  and  the  sky,  though 
covered  still  with  torn  and  flying  clouds,  cleared  by  de- 
grees, as  the  morning  went  on  ;  a  sharp  coolness  succeeded 
the  hot  blast,  but  the  sun  as  it  mounted  higher  and  higher 
soon  heated  the  air.  On  the  roads  and  in  the  gardens  lay 
uprooted  trees  and  many  slightly-built  houses  which  had 
been  blown  down,  while  the  tents  in  the  strangers'  quarter, 
and  hundreds  of  light  palm-thatched  roofs,  had  been  swept 
away. 

The  regent  was  returning  to  Thebes,  and  with  him  went 
Ameni,  who  desired  to  ascertain  by  his  own  eyes  what 
mischief  the  whirlwind  had  done  to  his  garden  in  the  city. 
On  the  Nile  they  met  Paaker's  boat,  and  Ani  caused  it 
and  his  own  to  be  stopped,  while  he  requested  Paaker  to 
visit  him  shortly  at  the  palace. 


^40  UARDA. 

The  high-priest's  garden  was  in  no  respect  inferior  in 
beauty  and  extent  to  that  of  the  Mohar.  The  ground  had 
belonged  to  his  family  from  the  remotest  generations,  and 
his  house  was  large  and  magnificent.  He  seated  himself 
in  a  shady  arbor,  to  take  a  repast  with  his  still  handsome 
wife  and  his  young  and  pretty  daughters. 

He  consoled  his  wife  for  the  various  damage  done  by 
the  hurricane,  promised  the  girls  to  build  a  new  and 
handsomer  dove-cote  in  the  place  of  the  one  which  had 
been  blown  down,  and  laughed  and  joked  with  them  all ; 
for  here  the  severe  head  of  the  House  of  Seti,  the  grave 
superior  of  the  Necropolis,  became  a  simple  man,  an 
affectionate  husband*  a  tender  father,  a  judicious  friend, 
among  his  children,  his  flowers,  and  his  birds.  His 
youngest  daughter  clung  to  his  right  arm,  and  an  older 
one  to  his  left,  when  he  rose  from  table  to  go  with  them 
to  the  poultry-yard. 

On  the  way  thither  a  servant  announced  to  him  that  the 
lady  Setchem  wished  to  see  him. 

"Take  her  to  your  mistress,"  he  said. 

But  the  slave — who  held  in  his  hand  a  handsome  gift  in 
money — explained  that  the  widow  wished  to  speak  with 
him  alone. 

"  Can  I  never  enjoy  an  hour's  peace  like  other  men  ? " 
exclaimed Ameni,  annoyed.  "Your  mistress  can  receive 
her,  and  she  can  wait  with  her  till  I  come.  It  is  true, 
girls — is  it  not? — that  I  belong  to  you  just  now,  and  to 
the  fowls,  and  ducks,  and  pigeons?" 

His  youngest  daughter  kissed  him,  the  second  patted 
him  affectionately,  and  they  all  three  went  gayly  forward. 
An  hour  later  he  requested  the  lady  Setchem  to  accom- 
pany him  into  the  garden. 

The  poor,  anxious,  and  frightened  woman  had  resolved 
on  this  step  with  much  difficulty  ;  tears  filled  her  kind 
eyes  as  she  communicated  her  troubles  to  the  high-priest. 

"Thou  art  a  wise  counselor,"  she  said,  "and  thou 
knowest  well  how  my  son  honors  the  gods  of  the  temple 
of  Seti  with  gifts  and  offerings.  He  will  not  listen  to  his 
mother,  but  thou  hast  influence  with  him.  He  meditates 
frightful  things,  and  if  he  cannot  be  terrified  by  threats  of 
punishment  from  the  immortals,  he  will  raise  his  hand 
against  Mena,  and  perhaps  " 


UARDA.  341 

••Against  the  king,"  interrupted  Ameni,  gravely.  "I 
know  it,  and  I  will  speak  to  him .  the  widow, 

"  Thanks,  oh,  a  *ousa  ld.  to  Zss  it     "  It  was 

and  she  seized  the  high-priests  «*e  to  £ss  A  ^ 
thou  who  soon  after  hi. .  birth ^  didst  m     Y         tQ  be  an 

as  the  ways  of  men.  „  Setchem.  "None 

^."wa/tte3  thrown  to  the  pound  at  sunnse 

shall  arise  „     . .  Setchem.     "But  something 

«I  thank  thee  again,   said  ^tchen  w  ^ 

yet  remains  to  be  said  lkna w  in  remember 
{ime  that  thou  dost ^  devote  to  thy wert  like  a 
thy  saying  once  that  here  m  1  ae  wander 
pack-horse  with  his  load  taken off andW  rtuch 

over  a  Sreen,  mea^°^'    t  ^  SUch  a  wonderful  vision. 

#  lit  &?K2KS  o"laa;  2»  as  the  potters 
use  to  make  jars  of. 


342 


UARDA. 


"  A  strange  dream  !  "  exclaimed  Ameni,  not  without  agi- 
tation. "A  very  strange  dream,  but  it  bodes  you  good. 
Clay,  Setchem,  is  yielding,  and  clearly  indicates  that 
which  the  gods  prepare  for  you.  The  Immortals  will  give 
you  a  new  and  a  better  son  instead  of  the  old  one,  but  it 
is  not  revealed  to  me  by  what  means.  Go  now  and  sacri- 
fice to  the  gods,  and  trust  to  the  wisdom  of  those  who 
guide  the  life  of  the  universe,  and  of  all  mortal  creatures. 
Yet — I  wouli  give  you  one  more  word  of  advice.  If 
Paaker  comes  to  you  repentant,  receive  him  kindly,  and 
let  me  know  ;  but  if  he  will  not  yield,  close  your  rooms 
against  him,  and  let  him  depart  without  taking  leave  of 
you." 

When  Setchem,  much  encouraged,  was  gone  away, 
Ameni  said  to  himself: 

"  She  will  find  splendid  compensation  for  this  coarse 
scoundrel,  and  she  shall  not  spoil  the  tool  we  need  to 
strike  our  blow  !  I  have  often  doubted  how  far  dreams 
do,  indeed,  foretell  the  future,  but  to-day  my  faith  in  them 
is  increased.  Certainly  a  mother's  heart  sees  further  than 
that  of  other  men." 

At  the  door  of  her  house  Setchem  came  up  with  her 
son's  chariot.  They  saw  each  other,  but  both  looked 
away,  for  they  could  not  meet  affectionately,  and  would 
not  meet  coldly.  As  the  horses  outran  the  litter-bearers, 
the  mother  and  son  looked  round  at  each  other,  their  eyes 
met,  and  each  felt  a  stab  in  the  heart. 

In  the  evening  the  pioneer,  after  he  had  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  regent,  went  to  the  temple  of  Seti  to  receive 
Ameni's  blessing  on  all  his  undertakings.  Then,  after 
sacrificing  in  the  tomb  of  his  ancestors,  he  set  out  for 
Syria. 

Just  as  he  was  getting  into  his  chariot,  news  was  brought 
him  that  the  mat-maker,  who  had  sawn  through  the  masts 
at  the  gate,  had  been  caught. 

"Put  out  his  eyes  ! "  he  cried  ;  and  these  were  the  last 
words  he  spoke  as  he  quitted  his  home. 

Setchem  looked  after  him  for  a  long  time  ;  she  had 
refused  to  bid  him  farewell,  and  now  she  implored  the 
gods  to  turn  his  heart,  and  to  preserve  him  from  malice 
and  crime. 


UARDA. 


343 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Three  days  had  passed  since  the  pioneers  departure, 
and  although  it  was  still  early,  busy  occupation  was  astir 
in  Bent-Anat  s  work-rooms. 

The  ladies  had  passed  the  stormy  night,  which  had 
succeeded  the  exciting  evening  of  the  festival,  without 
sleep. 

Nefert  felt  tired  and  sleepy  the  next  morning,  and 
begged  the  princess  to  introduce  her  to  her  new  duties 
for  the  first  time  next  day  ;  but  the  princess  spoke  to  her 
encouragingly,  told  her  that  no  man  should  put  off  doing 
right  till  the  morrow,  and  urged  her  to  follow  her  into  her 
workshop. 

"  We  must  both  come  to  different  minds,"  said  she.  "  I 
often  shudder  involuntarily,  and  feel  as  if  I  bore  a  brand — 
as  if  I  had  a  stain  here  on  my  shoulder  where  it  was 
touched  by  Paaker's  rough  hand. " 

The  first  day  of  labor  gave  Nefert  a  good  many  difficul- 
ties to  overcome  ;  on  the  second  day  the  work  she  had 
begun  already  had  a  charm  for  her,  and  by  the  third  she 
rejoiced  in  the  little  results  of  her  care. 

Bent-Anat  had  put  her  in  the  right  place,  for  she  had 
the  direction  of  a  large  number  of  young  girls  and  women, 
the  daughters,  wives  and  widows  of  those  Thebans  who 
were  at  the  war,  or  who  had  fallen  in  the  field,  who  sorted 
and  arranged  the  healing  herbs. 

Her  helpers  sat  in  little  circles  on  the  ground ;  in  the 
midst  of  each  lay  a  great  heap  of  fresh  and  dry  plants, 
and  in  front  of  each  workwoman  a  number  of  parcels 
of  the  selected  roots,  leaves  and  flowers. 

An  old  physician  presided  over  the  whole,  and  had 
shown  Nefert  the  first  day  the  particular  plants  which  he 
needed. 

The  wife  of  Mena,  who  was  fond  of  flowers,  had  soon 
learned  them  all,  and  she  taught  willingly,  for  she  loved 
children. 


344 


UARDA. 


She  soon  had  favorites  among  the  children,  and  knew 
some  as  being  industrious  and  careful,  others  as  idle  and 
heedless. 

"Ah!  ah!"  she  exclaimed,  bending  over  a  little  half- 
naked  maiden  with  great  almond-shaped  eyes.  "  You  are 
mixing  them  all  together.  Your  father,  as  you  tell  me,  is  at 
the  war.  Suppose,  now,  an  arrow  were  to  strike  him,  and 
this  plant,  which  would  hurt  him,  were  laid  on  the  burning 
wound  instead  of  this  other,  which  would  do  him  good — 
that  would  be  very  sad." 

The  child  nodded  her  head,  and  looked  her  work 
through  again.  Nefert  turned  to  a  little  idler,  and  said  : 
"You  are  chattering  again,  and  doing  nothing,  and  yet 
your  father  is  in  the  field.  It  he  were  ill  now,  and  has  no 
medicine,  and  if  at  night  when  he  is  asleep  he  dreams  of 
you,  and  sees  you  sitting  idle,  he  may  say  to  himself : 
'  Now  I  might  get  well,  but  my  little  girl  at  home  does  not 
love  me,  for  she  would  rather  sit  with  her  hands  in  her 
lap  than  sort  herbs  for  her  sick  father. 

Then  Nefert  turned  to  a  large  group  of  the  girls,  who 
were  sorting  plants,  and  said  :  "Do  you,  children,  know 
the  origin  of  all  these  wholesome,  healing  herbs  ?  The 
good  Horus  went  out  to  fight  against  Seti,  the  murderer  of 
his  father,  and  the  horrible  enemy  wounded  Horus  in  the 
eye  *  in  the  struggle  ;  but  the  son  of  Osiris  conquered,  for 
good  always  conquers  evil.  But  when  Isis  saw  the  bad 
wound,  she  pressed  her  son's  head  to  her  bosom,  and  her 
heart  was  as  sad  as  that  of  any  poor  human  mother  that 
holds  her  suffering  child  in  her  arms.  And  she  thought  : 
'  How  easy  it  is  to  give  wounds,  and  how  hard  it  is  to 
heal  them  ! '  and  so  she  wept  ;  one  tear  .after  another  fell 
on  the  earth,  and  wherever  they  wetted  the  ground  there 
sprang  up  a  kindly  healing  plant."  f 

*  According  to  the  "  Book  of  the  Dead,"  and  Isis  also  holds  the  «ye 
of  Horus. 

t  The  Egyptians  attributed  creative  power  to  the  blood  and  the  tears  of 
the  gods.  Lefebure  has  treated  the  subject  in  "  Le  Mythe  Osirien."  In 
"  the  praises  of  Ra,"  edited  by  Naville,  the  god  is  addressed  as  "  Remi," 
/.  e.,  the  weeper;  and  in  the  sentences  found  with  the  pictures  of  the 
four  races  of  men  in  the  tomb  of  Seti  L,  at  Biban  el  Muluk,  there  is  a 
passage  from  which  it  appears  that  man  also  sprung  from  the  tears  of 
the  god,  since  he  thus  addresses  the  people  :  *  Ye  are  a  tear  from  mine 
eyes,  Ye  who  are  called  Men !  " 


UARDA. 


345 


"Isis  is  good !  99  cried  a  little  girl  opposite  to  her. 
"  Mother  says  Isis  loves  children  when  they  are  good." 

"  Your  mother  is  right/' replied  Nefert.  "Isis  herself 
has  her  dear  little  son  Horus  ;  and  every  human  being 
that  dies,  and  that  was  good,  becomes  a  child  again,  and 
the  goddess  makes  it  her  own,  and  takes  it  to  her  breast, 
and  nurses  it  with  her  sister  Nephthys  till  he  grows  up 
and  can  fight  for  his  father." 

Nefert  observed  that  while  she  spoke  one  of  the  women 
was  crying.  She  went  up  to  her,  and  learned  that  her 
husband  and  her  son  were  both  dead,  the  former  in  Syria, 
and  the  latter  after  his  return  to  Egypt. 

"Poor  soul!"  said  Nefert.  "Now  you  will  be  very 
careful,  that  the  wounds  of  others  may  be  healed.  I  will 
tell  you  something  more  about  Isis.  She  loved  her  hus- 
band Osiris  dearly,  as  you  did  your  dead  husband,  and  I 
my  husband  Mena,  but  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  cunning  of 
Seth,  and  she  could  not  tell  where  to  find  the  body  that 
had  been  carried  away,  while  you  can  visit  your  husband 
in  his  grave.  Then  Isis  went  through  the  land  lamenting, 
and  ah  !  what  was  to  become  of  Egypt,  which  received  all 
its  fruitfulness  from  Osiris.  The  sacred  Nile  was  dried 
up,  and  not  a  blade  of  verdure  was  green  on  its  banks. 
The  goddess  grieved  over  this  beyond  words,  and  one  of 
her  tears  fell  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  immediately  it 
began  to  rise.  You  know,  of  course,  that  each  inundation 
arises  from  a  tear  of  Isis.  Thus  a  widows  sorrow  may 
bring  blessing  to  millions  of  human  beings." 

The  woman  had  listened  to  her  attentively,  and  when 
Nefert  ceased  speaking,  she  said  : 

"  But  I  have  still  three  little  brats  of  my  son's  to  feed, 
for  his  wife,  who  was  a  washerwoman,  was  eaten  by  a 
crocodile  while  she  was  at  work.  Poor  folks  must  work 
for  themselves  and  not  for  others.  If  the  princess  did  not 
pay  us,  I  could  not  think  of  the  wounds  of  the  soldiers, 
who  do  not  belong  to  me.  I  am  no  longer  strong,  and  four 
mouths  to  fill  " 

Nefert  was  shocked— as  she  often  was  in  the  course  of 
her  new  duties — and  begged  Bent-Anat  to  raise  the  wages 
of  the  woman. 

"  Willingly,"  said  the  princess.  "  How  could  I  beat 
down  such  an  assistant  ?    Come,  now,  with  me  into  the 


346 


UARDA. 


kitchen.  I  am  having  some  fruit  packed  for  my  father 
and  brothers ;  there  must  be  a  box  for  Mena,  too." 

Nefert  followed  her  royal  friend,  found  them  packing  in 
one  case  the  golden  dates  of  the  oasis  of  Anion,*  and  in 
another  the  dark  dates  of  Nubia,  the  king's  favorite  sort. 

''Let  me  pack  them!"  cried  Nefert;  she  made  the 
servants  empty  the  box  again,  and  rearranged  the  various- 
*  colored  dates  in  graceful  patterns,  with  other  fruits  pre- 
served in  sugar. 

Bent-Anat  looked  on,  and  when  she  had  finished  she 
took  her  hand.  "  Whatever  your  fingers  have  touched," 
she  exclaimed,  "takes  some  pretty  aspect.  Give  me  that 
scrap  of  papyrus  ;  I  shall  put  it  in  the  case  and  write  upon 
it  : 

"  'These  were  packed  for  King  Rameses  by  his  daugh- 
ter's clever  helpmate,  the  wife  of  Mena/  " 

After  the  midday  rest  the  princess  was  called  away,  and 
Nefert  remained  for  some  hours  alone  with  the  work- 
women. 

When  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  busy  crowd  were 
about  to  leave,  Nefert  detained  them,  and  said  :  "The 
Sun-bark  is  sinking  behind  the  western  hills  ;  come,  let  us 
pray  together  for  the  king  and  for  those  we  love  in  the 
field.  Each  of  you  think  of  her  own  :  you  children  of  your 
fathers,  you  women  of  your  sons,  and  we  wives  of  our  dis- 
tant husbands,  and  let  us  entreat  Amon  that  they  may 
return  to  us  as  certainly  as  the  sun,  which  now  leaves  us, 
will  rise  again  to-morrow  morning." 

Nefert  knelt  down,  and  with  her  the  women  and  the 
children. 

When  they  rose  a  little  girl  went  up  to  Nefert  and  said, 
pulling  her  dress  :  "Thou  hast  made  us  kneel  here  yester- 
day, and  already  my  mother  is  better,  because  I  prayed 
for  her. " 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Nefert,  stroking  the  child's  black  hair. 

She  found  Bent-Anat  on  the  terrace  meditatively  gazing 
across  to  the  Necropolis,  which  was  fading  into  darkness 
before  her  eyes.  She  started  when  she  heard  the  light 
footstep  of  her  friend. 

"  I  am  disturbing  thee,"  said  Nefert,  about  to  retire. 

*  Now  called  the  oasis  of  Siwah.  Its  date  palms  are  still  famous  for 
their  fruit. 


~  UARDA.  347 

"  No  stay,"  said  Bent-Anat.  "I  thank  the  gods  that  I 
havevou  for  my  heart  is  sad— pitifully  sad. 

"Vknow  where  your  thoughts  were,"  said  Nefert, 
softly. 

"Well?  "  asked  the  princess. 

'TthinkeofWm-always  of  him, "  replied  the  princess, 
"and  nothing  else  occupies  my  heart.  I  ^  no  longer 
myself.  Whit  I  think  I  ought  not  to  think,  what  I  feel 
I  ought  not  to  feel,  and  yet  I  cannot  command  it,  and  I 
Wnk  my  heart  would  bleed  to  death  if  I  tried  to  cut  out 
hose  thoughts  and  feelings.  I  have  behaved  strangely, 
nav  unbecomingly,  and  now  that  which  is  hard  to  endure 
Ts  LSng  over  me,  something  strange-which  will  per- 
haps drive  you  from  me  back  to  your  mother.  _ 

"I  will  share  everything  with  you,'  cnea  Nefert. 
"What  is  going  to  happen?  Are  you  then  no  longer  the 
daughter  of  Rameses  ?  "  ,  , 

"  I  showed  myself  to  the  people  as  a  woman  of  the 
people,"  answered  Bent-Anat,  "  and  I  must  take  the  con- 
signees.   Bek-en-Chunsu,  the  high-priest  of  Amon,  has 
Sen  with  me,  and  I  have  had  a  long  conversation  with 
Mm     The  worthy  man  is  good  to  me,  I  know,  and  my 
father  ordered  me  to  follow  his  advice  before  anyone  s 
He  showed  me  that  I  have  erred  deeply.     In  a  state  ot 
uncleanness  I  went  into  one  of  the  temples  of  the  Necrop- 
olis and  after  I  had  once  been  in  the  paraschites  house 
and  incurred  Ameni's  displeasure,  I  did  it  a  second  time. 
They  know  over  there  all  that  took  place  at  the  festival. 
Now  I  must  undergo  purification,  either  with  great  solem- 
nityat  the  hands  of  Ameni  himself,  before  all  the  priests 
and  nobles  in  the  House  of  Seti,  or  by  performing  a  pil- 
grimage to  the  Emerald-Hathor,*  under  whose  influence 
*  «  Hathor  of  the  Mafkat"  was  especially  revered  We  pe«ulJ  rf 
Sinai     According  to  Lepsius'  searching  investigation  as  to  the  metals 
o  the  ancien  Egyptians;  it  is  proved  that  Mafkat  s  neither  copper  no 
^rauorsroutalreenstone.    When  the  Mafkat  is  termed    true  or 
"geqnuSe  "  emerfld  is  meant ;  in  other  cases  malachite,  Chrysoprase  and 
^een  riass  which  are  frequently  found  in  the  tombs.    Ornaments  of 
mXmte  aJ  rare.    We  may  here  mention  an  exquisite  figure  of  the  god 
Ptah  made  of  this  stone,  which  is  preserved  in  the  Japanese  palace  at 
Dresden Monuments  which  remain  at  both  J the  mining, establishments 
of  Sinai,  Wadi  Maghara,  and  Sarbut  e  Chadem,  indicate  that  Hathor 
was  worshiped  there  in  preference  to  all  other  divinities. 


348  UARDA. 

the  precious  stones  are  hewn  from  the  rocks,  metals  dug 
out  and  purified  by  fire.  The  goddess  shall  purge  me  from 
my  uncleanness  as  metal  is  purged  from  the  dross.  At 
a  day's  journey  and  more  from  the  mines,  an  abundant 
stream  flows  from  the  holy  mountain— Sinai,  as  it  is  called 
by  the  Mentu— and  near  it  stands  the  sanctuary  of  the  god- 
dess, in  which  priests  grant  purification.  The  journey  is 
a  long  one,  through  the  desert,  and  over  the  sea  ;  but  Bek- 
en-Chunsu  advises  me  to  venture  it.  Amem,  he  says  is 
not  amiably  disposed  toward  me,  because  I  infringed  the 
ordinance  which  he  values  above  all  others.  I  must  sub- 
mit to  double  severity,  he  says,  because  the  people  look 
first  to  those  of  the  highest  rank  ;  and  if  I  went  unpunished 
for  contempt  of  the  sacred  institutions  there  might  be  im- 
itators among  the  crowd.  He  speaks  in  the  name  of  the  ■ 
gods,  and  they  measure  hearts  with  an  equal  measure 
The  ell-measure  is  the  symbol  of  the  goddess  of  Trutk* 
I  feel  that  it  is  all  not  unjust;  and  yet  I  find  it  hard  to 
submit  to  the  priest's  decree,  for  I  am  the  daughter  of 

Rameses  ! "  ,  .     .    ,  .  1f 

"Ay,  indeed!"  exclaimed  Nefert,  "and  he  is  himself 

ag^Buthe  taught  me  to  respect  the  laws  !"  interrupted 
the  princess.  "I  discussed  another  thing  with  Bek-en- 
Chunsu.  You  know  I  rejected  the  suit  of  the  regent.  He 
must  secretly  be  much  vexed  with  me.  That  indeed  would 
not  alarm  me,  but  he  is  the  guardian  and  protector  ap- 
pointed over  me  by  my  father,  and  yet  can  I  umtohm 
n  confidence  for  counsel  and  help?  No!  I  am  stilba 
woman,  and  Rameses'  daughter  !  Sooner  will  I  travel 
through  a  thousand  deserts  than  humiliate  my  father 
through  his  child.  By  to-morrow  I  shall  have  decided  ; 
but  indeed,  I  have  already  decided  to  make  the  journey, 
hard  as  it  is  to  leave  much  that  is  here.  Do  not  fear, 
dear !  but  you  are  too  tender  for  such  a  journey,  and  to 

such  a  distance  ;  I  might  "  , 

' '  No  no, "  cried  Nefert.     "Iam  going,  too  if  you  were 
going  to  the  four  pillars  ofheaven,tat  the  limits  of  the 

*  The  name  of  the  goddess  of  Truth,  Ma,  was  written  with  the  hiero- 
glyph wWd,  represented  the  dl-measure.    S^spe«men^of the 
sacred  ell-measure  have  been  preserved     1  -epsu.s  has  fully  treated  the 
aubiect  -  Die  alteeyptische  EUe  und  lhre  Kmtheilung. 
"T^e^  WeavetiareaUudedto  in  various  ctrcumstances.  On 


UAROA. 


349 


earth.  You  have  given  me  a  new  life,  and  the  little  sprout 
that  is  green  within  me  would  wither  again  if  I  had  to  re- 
turn to  my  mother.  Only  she  or  I  can  be  in  our  house, 
and  I  will  re-enter  it  only  with  Mena." 

"  It  is  settled — I  must  go,"  said  the  princess.  "  Oh  !  if 
only  my  father  were  not  so  far  off,  and  that  I  could  con- 
sult him  !  " 

Yes  !  the  war,  and  always  the  war  !  "  sighed  Nefert. 
"  Why  do  not  men  rest  content  with  what  they  have,  and 
prefer  the  quiet  peace,  which  makes  life  lovely,  to  idle 
fame?" 

' '  Would  they  be  men?  should  we  love  them?"  cried 
Bent-Anat,  eagerly.  "  Is  not  the  mind  of  the  gods,  too, 
bent  on  war  ?  Did  you  ever  see  a  more  sublime  sight  than 
Pentaur,  on  that  evening  when  he  brandished  the  stake  he 
had  pulled  up,  and  exposed  his  life  to  protect  an  innocent 
girl  who  was  in  danger  ?  " 

"I  dared  not  once  look  down  into  the  court/'  said 
Nefert.  "  I  was  in  such  an  agony  of  mind.  But  his  loud 
cry  still  rings  in  my  ears." 

"  So  rings  the  war-cry  of  heroes  before  whom  the  enemy 
quails  !  "  exclaimed  Bent-Anat. 

"  Ay,  truly  so  rings  the  war-cry  !  "  said  Prince  Rameri, 
who  had  entered  his  sisters  half-dark  room  unperceived 
by  the  two  women. 

The  princess  turned  to  the  boy.  "  How  you  frightened 
me  !  "  she  said. 

"  You  !  "  said  Rameri,  astonished. 

"  Yes,  me.  I  used  to  have  a  stout  heart,  but  since  that 
evening  I  frequently  tremble,  and  an  agony  of  terror  comes 
over  me,  I  do  not  know  why.  I  believe  some  demon  com- 
mands me." 

"You  command  wherever  you  go;  and  no  one  com- 
mands you, "  cried  Rameri.  ' '  The  excitement  and  tumult 
in  the  valley,  and  on  the  quay,  still  agitate  you.  I  grind 
my  teeth  myself  when  I  remember  how  they  turned  me  out 

the  beautiful  Stele  of  Victory  of  Thotmes  III.,  at  Bulaq,  it  is  written. 
"  I,  Amon,  have  spread  the  fear  of  thee  to  the  four  pillars  of  heaven." 
They  were  supposed  to  stand  at  the  uttermost  points  of  the  north,  south, 
east  and  west,  and  the  phrase  is  often  used  for  the  four  quarters  of  the 
heavens. 


35° 


UARDA. 


of  the  school,  and  how  Paaker  set  the  dogi  at  us.  I  have 
gone  through  a  great  deal  to-day  too." 

"  Where  were  you  so  long  ?  "  asked  Bent-Anat.  "  My 
Uncle  Ani  commanded  that  you  should  not  leave  the 
palace. " 

"  I  shall  be  eighteen  years  old  next  month,"  said  {.he 
prince,  "  and  need  no  tutor." 

"  But  your  father  "  said  Bent-Anat. 

"My  father  ;"  interrupted  the  boy,  "he  little  knows 
the  regent.  But  I  shall  write  to  him  what  I  have  to-day 
heard  said  by  different  people.  They  were  to  have  sworn 
allegiance  to  Ani  at  that  very  feast  in  the  Valley,  and  it  is 
quite  openly  said  that  Ani  is  aiming  at  the  throne,  and  in- 
tends to  depose  the  king.  You  are  right,  it  is  madness — 
but  there  must  be  something  behind  it  all." 

Nefert  turned  pale,  and  Bent-Anat  asked  for  particu- 
lars. The  prince  repeated  all  he  had  gathered,  and  added, 
laughing  :  "Ani  depose  my  father  !  It  is  as  if  I  tried  to 
snatch  the  star  of  Isis  from  the  sky  to  put  it  here  for  a 
lamp — which  is  much  wTanted." 

"It  is  more  comfortable  in  the  dark,"  said  Nefert. 

"No,  let  us  have  lights,"  said  Bent-Anat.  "It  is 
better  to  talk  when  we  can  see  each  other  face  to  face.  I 
have  no  belief  in  the  foolish  talk  of  the  people  ;  but 
you  are  right — we  must  bring  it  to  my  father's  knowledge." 

"I  heard  the  wildest  gossip  in  the  City  of  the  Dead," 
said  Rameri. 

"  You  ventured  over  there  ?    How  very  wrong  !  " 

"I  disguised  myself  a  little,  and  I  have  good  news  for 
you.  Pretty  Uarda  is  much  better.  She  received  your 
present,  and  they  have  a  house  of  their  own  again.  Close 
to  the  one  that  was  burnt  down,  there  was  a  tumble-down 
hovel,  which  her  father  soon  put  together  again  ;  he  is  a 
bearded  soldier,  who  is  as  much  like  her  as  a  hedgehog  is 
like  a  white  dove.  I  offered  her  to  work  in  the  palace  for 
you  with  the  other  girls  for  good  wages,  but  she  would 
not ;  for  she  has  to  wait  on  her  sick  grandmother,  and  she 
is  proud,  and  will  not  serve  any  one." 

"It  seems  you  were  a  long  time  with  the  paraschites' 
people,"  said  Bent-Anat,  reprovingly.  "I  should  have 
thought  that  what  has  happened  to  me  might  have  served 
you  as  a  warning." 


UAR£>A.  35I 

"I  will  riot  be  better  than  you  I"  cried  the  boy     "  Be- 
sides, the  paraschites  is  dead,  and  Uarda's  father  is  a 
respectable  soldier,  who  can  defile  no  one.    I  kept  a  long- 
way  from  the  old  woman.    To-morrow  I  am  going-  again 
I  promised  her."  &  5 

"Promised  who ?  "  asked  his  sister. 

"Who  butUarda?  She  loves  flowers,  and  since  the 
rose  which  you  gave  her  she  has  not  seen  one.  I  have 
ordered  the  gardener  to  cut  me  a  basket  full  of  roses 
to-morrow  morning,  and  shall  take  them  to  her  my- 

"  That  you  will  not !  "  cried  Bent-Anat.  ' '  You  are  still 
but  half  a  child— and,  for  the  girl's  sake  too,  you  must 
give  it  up.  r 

"We  only  gossip  together,"  said' the  prince,  coloring; 

and  no  one  shall  recognize  me.  But  certainly,  if  you 
mean  that,  1  will  leave  the  basket  of  roses,  and  go  to  her 
alone.  No— sister,  I  will  not  be  forbidden  this  :  she  is  so 
charming  so  white,  so  gentle,  and  her  voice  is  so  soft  and 
sweet !  And  she  has  little  feet,  as  small  as— what  shall  I 
say  ?— as  small  and  graceful  as  Nefert's  hand.  We  talked 
most  about  Pentaur.  She  knows  his  father,  who  is  a  gar- 
dener, and  knows  a  great  deal  about  him.  Only  think  I 
she  says  the  poet  cannot  be  the  son  of  his  parents,  but  a 
good  spirit  that  has  come  down  on  earth— perhaps  a  god 
At  first  she  was  very  timid,  but  when  I  spoke  of  Pentaur ' 
she  grew  eager  ;  her  reverence  for  him  is  almost  idolatrv— 
and  that  vexed  me. "  J 

"You  would  rather  she  would  reverence  you  so,"  said 
Nefert,  smiling.  ' 

"Not  at  all,"  cried  Rameri.     -But  I  helped  to  save 
ner,  and  1  am  so  happy  when  I  am  sitting  with  her  that 
to-morrow,  I  am  resolved,  I  will  put  a  flower  in  her 'hair 
It  is  red  certainly,  but  as  thick  as  yours,  Bent-Anat  and 
it  must  be  delightful  to  unfasten  it  and  stroke  it  "  ' 

Pr2S  d^yd  aglance  of  intell*ence-  a»d  the 

mylZ^rig°  t0theCity  °ftheDead  > 
"That  we  will  see,  my  little  mother!  "  he  answered 

laughing;  then  he  turned  grave. 

"  I  saw  my  school-friend  Anana,  too,"hesaid.     "  Injus- 


3S2  UARDA.      '  . 

tice  reigns  in  the  House  of  Seti  !  Pentaur  is  in  prison, 
and  yesterday  evening  they  sat  in  judgment  upon  him. 
My  uncle  was  present,  and  would  have  pounced  upon  the 
poet  but  Ameni  took  him  under  his  protection.  What 
was 'finally  decided,  the  pupils  could- not  learn,  but  it  must 
have  been  something  bad,  for  the  son  of  the  Treasurer 
heard  Ameni  saying,  after  the  sitting,  to  old  Gagabu  : 
'  Punishment  he  deserves,  but  I  will  not  let  him  be  over- 
whelmed ; '  and  he  can  have  meant  no  one  but  Pentaur. 
To-morrow  I  will  go  over,  and  learn  more  ;  something 
frightful,  I  am  afraid— several  years  of  imprisonment  is 
the  least  that  will  happen  to  him." 

Ben t-Anat  had  turned  very  pale.  .  ,       ,  .,, 

"  And  whatever  the,y,do  to  him,"  she  cried,  he  will 
suffer  for  my  sake  !  Oh,  ye  omnipotent  gods,  help  him— 
help  me,  be  merciful  to  us  both !  " 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  left  the  room. 
Rameri  asked  Nefert : 

"What  can  have  come  to  my  sister?  she  seems  quite 
strange  to  me  ;  and  you  too  are  not  the  same  as  you  used 

to  be. "  ...   „  » 

"We  both  have  to  find  our  way  in  new  circumstances. 

"What  are  they  ?  " 

"That  I  cannot  explain  to  you  !— but  it  appears  tome 
that  you  soon  may  experience  something  of  the  same  kind, 
Rameri,  do  not  go  again  to  the  paraschites. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Early  on  the  following  day  the  dwarf  Nemu  went  past 
the  restored  hut  of  Uarda's  father-in  which  he  had 
formerly  lived  with  his  wife— with  a  man  in  a  long  coarse 
robe,  the  steward  of  some  noble  family.  They  went 
toward  old  Hekt's  cave-dwelling. 

<<  I  would  beg  thee  to  wait  down  here  a  moment,  noble 
lord,"  said  the  dwarf,  "while  I  announce  thee  to  my 

m  «  That  sounds  very  grand, "  said  the  other.  ' '  However, 
so  be  it.    But  stay  !    The  old  woman  is  not  to  call  me  by 


tJARDA. 


353 


my  name  or  by  my  title.  She  is  to  call  me  'steward  — 
that  no  one  may  know.  But,  indeed,  no  one  would  recog- 
nize me  in  this  dress. " 

Nemu  hastened  to  the  cave,  but  before  he  reached  his 
mother  she  called  out  :  "  Do  not  keep  my  lord  waiting— 
I  know  him  well. " 

Nemu  laid  his  finger  to  his  lips. 

"  You  are  to  call  him  steward,"  said  he. 

"  Good/'  muttered  the  old  woman.  "  The  ostrich  puts 
his  head  under  his  feathers  when  he  does  not  want  to  be 
seen. " 

«  Was  the  young  prince  long  with  Uarda  yesterday  ?  " 

"  No,  you  fool,"  laughed  the  witch,  "  the  children  play 
together."  Rameri  is  a  kid  without  horns,  but  who  fancies 
he  knows  where  they  ought  to  grow.  Pentaur  is  a  more 
dangerous  rival  with  the  red-headed  girl.  Make  haste, 
now  ;  these  stewards  must  not  be  kept  waiting." 

The  old  woman  gave  the  dwarf  a  push,  and  he  hurriec 
back  to  Ani,  while  she  carried  the  child,  tied  to  his  board, 
into  the  cave,  and  threw  the  sack  over  him. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  regent  stood  before  her. 

She  bowed  before  him  with  a  demeanor  that  was  more 
like  the  singer  Beki  than  the  sorceress  Hekt,  and  begged 
him  to  take  the  only  seat  she  possessed. 

When,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  he  declined  to  sit  down, 
she  said  : 

"  Yes— yes — be  seated  !  then  thou  wilt  not  be  seen  from 
the  valley,  but  be  screened  by  the  rocks  close  by.  Why 
hast  thou  chosen  this  hour  for  thy  visit  ? " 

"Because  the  matter  presses  of  which  I  wish  to  speak," 
answered  Ani  ;  "  and  in  the  evening  I  might  easily  be 
challenged  by  the  watch.  My  disguise  is  good.  Under 
this  robe  I  wear  my  usual  dress.  From  this  I  shall  go  to 
the  tomb  of  my  father,  where  I  shall  take  off  this  coarse 
thing,  and  these  other  disfigurements,  and  shall  wait  for 
my  chariot,  which  is  already  ordered.  I  shall  tell  people 
I  had  made  a  vow  to  visit  the  grave  humbly,  and  on  foot, 
which  I  have  now  fulfilled." 

"Well  planned,"  muttered  the  old  woman. 

Ani  pointed  to  the  dwarf,  and  said  politely:  "Your 
pupil." 

Since  her  narrative,  the  sorceress  was  no  longer  a  mere 
23 


354 


UARDA. 


witch  in  his  eyes.  The  old  woman  understood  this,  and 
saluted  him  with  a  courtesy  of  such  courtly  formality  that 
a  tame  raven  at  her  feet  opened  his  black  beak  wide,  and 
uttered  a  loud  scream.  She  threw  a  bit  of  cheese  within 
the  cave,  and  the  bird  hopped  after  it,  flapping  his  clipped 
wings,  and  was  silent. 

"  I  have  to  speak  to  you  about  Pentaur,"  said  Ani. 

The  old  woman's  eyes  flashed,  and  she  eagerly  asked, 
"What  of  him?" 

"  I  have  reasons,"  answered  the  regent,  "  for  regarding 
him  as  dangerous  to  me.  He  stands  in  my  way^  He  has 
committed  many  crimes,  even  murder ;  but  he  is  in  favor 
at  the  House  of  Seti,  and  they  would  willingly  let  him  go 
unpunished.  They  have  the  right  of  sitting  in  judgment 
on  each  other,  and  I  cannot  interfere  with  their  decisions  ; 
the  day  before  yesterday  they  pronounced  their  sentence. 
They  would  send  him  to  the  quarries  of  Chennu.*  All  my 
objections  were  disregarded,  and  now — Nemu,  go  over  to 
the  grave  of  Amenophis,  and  wait  there  for  me — I  wish  to 
speak  to  your  mother  alone." 

Nemu  bowed,  and  went  down  the  slope,  disappointed, 
it  is  true,  but  sure  of  learning  later  what  the  two  had  dis- 
cussed together. 

When  the  little  man  had  disappeared,  Ani  asked  : 

"  Have  you  still  a  heart  true  to  the  old  royal  house,  to 
which  your  parents  were  so  faithfully  attached  ?  " 

The  old  woman  nodded. 

"Then  you  will  not  refuse  your  help  toward  its  restora- 

*  Chennu  is  now  Gebel  Silsileh ;  the  quarries  there  are  of  enormous 
extent,  and  almost  all  the  sandstone  used  for  building  the  temples  of 
Upper  Egypt  was  brought  from  thence.  The  Nile  is  narrower  there  than 
above,  and  large  stelae  were  erected  there  by  Rameses  IT.  and  his  suc- 
cessor Mernephtah,  on  which  were  inscribed  beautiful  hymns  to  the  Nile, 
and  lists  of  the  sacrifices  to  be  offered  at  the  Nile  festivals.  These  in- 
scriptions can  be  restored  by  comparison,  and  my  friend  Stern  and  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  doing  this  on  the  spot  (Zeitschrift  fur  Agyptische 
Sprache,  1873,  P»  I29)-  Rameses  the  Great  instituted  two  Nile  festivals, 
which  Stern  identifies  with  "  the  night  of  the  drop,"  or  "  of  the  tear," 
and  with  "  the  cutting  of  the  dykes."  Among  the  Arabs  the  belief  still 
prevails  that  the  rising  of  the  Nile  proceeds  from  a  divine  tear.  The 
night  of  the  tear  is  the  eleventh  Bauneh  (in  1873  ^  seventeenth  of 
June)  when  the  Nile  is  at  its  lowest,  and  the  second  festival  is  fixed  ac- 
cording to  the  level  to  which  the  waters  have  risen.  The  two  Nile  feasts 
were  solemnized  at  an  interval  of  two  months,,  as  als^  are  their  modern 
successors. 


UARDA. 


355 


tion.  You  understand  how  necessary  the  priesthood  is  to 
me,  and  I  have  sworn  not  to  make  any  attempt  on  Pentaur's 
life  ;  but,  I  repeat  it,  he  stands  in  my  way.  I  have  my 
spies  in  the  House  of  Seti,  and  I  know  through  them  what 
the  sending  of  the  poet  to  Chennu  really  means.  For  a 
time  they  will  let  him  hew  sandstone,  and  that  will  only 
improve  his  health,  for  he  is  as  sturdy  as  a  tree.  In 
Chennu,  as  you  know,  besides  the  quarries  there  is  the 
great  college  of  priests,  which  is  in  close  alliance  with  the 
temple  of  Seti.  When  the  flood  begins  to  rise,  and  they 
hold  the  great  Nile  festival  in  Chennu,  the  priests  there 
have  the  right  of  taking  three  of  the  criminals  who  are 
working  in  the  quarries  into  their  house  as  servants. 
Naturally  they  will,  next  year,  choose  Pentaur,  set  him  at 
liberty — and  I  shall  be  laughed  at." 
"  Well  considered  !  "  said  Hekt. 

"  I  have  taken  counsel  with  myself,  with  Katuti,  and 
even  with  Nemu,'"'  continued  Ani,  "but  all  that  they  have 
suggested,  though  certainly  practicable,  was  unadvisable, 
and  at  any  rate  must  have  led  to  conjectures  which  I  must 
now  avoid.    What  is  your  opinion  ?  " 

"  Assa's  race  must  be  exterminated  !  "  muttered  the  old 
woman,  hoarsely. 

She  gazed  at  the  ground,  reflecting. 

"Let  the  boat  be  scuttled,"  she  said  at  last,  "and  sink 
with  the  chained  prisoners  before  it  reaches  Chennu/' 

"No — no;  I  thought  of  that  myself,  and  Nemu  too 
advised  it,"  cried  Ani.  "That  has  been  done  a  hundred 
times,  and  Ameni  will  regard  me  as  a^perjurer,  for  I  have 
sworn  not  to  attempt  Pentaur s  life." 

"  To  be  sure,  thou  hast  sworn  that,  and  men  keep  their 
word — to  each  other.  Wait  a  moment,  how  would  this 
do?  Let  the  ship  reach  Chennu  with  the  prisoners,  but, 
by  a  secret  order  to  the  captain,  pass  the  quarries  in  the 
night,  and  hasten  on  as  fast  as  possible  as  far  as  Ethiopia. 
From  Suan,*  the  prisoners  may  be  conducted  through  the 
desert  to  the  gold  workings,  f    Four  weeks  or  even  eight 

*  The  modern  Assuan  at  the  first  cataract. 

t  The  frightful  fate  of  Egyptian  miners  is  vividly  presented  in  a  famous 
passage  of  Agatharchides  of  Knidos,  in  Diodorus  iii,  12,  13,  and  14. 
The  Ethiopian  gold  mines  were  re-discovered  in  1832-33  by  Bonomi  and 
Linant  Pasha,  but  they  are  now  completely  exhausted. 


3S6  UARDA. 

may  pass  before  it  is  known  here  what  has  happened.  If 
Ameni  attacks  thee  about  it,  thou  wilt  be  very  angry  at 
this  oversight,  and  canst  swear  by  all  the  gods  of  the 
heavens  and  of  the  abyss  that  thou  hast  not  attempted 
Pentaur s  life.  More  weeks  will  pass  in  inquiries.  Mean- 
while do  thy  best,  and  Paaker  do  his,  and  thou  art  king. 
An  oath  is  easily  broken  by  a  scepter,  and  if  thou  wilt 
positively  keep  thy  word  leave  Pentaur  at  the  gold  mines. 
None  have  yet  returned  from  thence.  My  fathers  and 
my  brothers  bones  have  bleached  there."  ^ 

"  But  Ameni  will  never  believe  in  the  mistake,"  cried 
Ani,  anxiously  interrupting  the  witch. 

"Then  admit  that  thou  gavest  the  order,"  exclaimed 
Hekt.  "Explain  that  thou  hadst  learned  what  they  pro- 
posed doing  with  Pentaur  at  Chennu,  and  that  thy  word 
indeed  was  kept,  but  that  a  criminal  could  not  be  left  un- 
punished. They  will  make  further  inquiries,  and  if  Assa  s 
grandson  is  found  still  living  thou  wilt  be  justified.  Fol- 
low my  advice,  if  thou  wilt  prove  thyself  a  good  steward 
of  thy  house,  and  master  of  its  inheritance." 

"It  will  not  do,"  said  the  regent.  "I  need  Ameni's 
support — not  for  to-day  and  to-morrow  only.  I  will  not 
become  his  blind  tool ;  but  he  must  believe  that  I  am." 

The  old  woman  shrugged  her  shoulders,  rose,  went  into 
her  cave,  and  brought  out  a  phial. 

"Take  this,"  she  said.  "  Four  drops  of  it  in  his  wine 
infallibly  destroys  the  drinkers  senses  ^  try  the  drink  on  a 
slave,  and  thou  wilt  see  how  effectual  it  is." 
"What  shall  I  do  with  it  ? "  asked  Ani. 
"  Justify  thyself  to  Ameni,"  said  the  witch,  laughing. 
"Order  the  ship's  captain  to  come  to  thee  as  soon  as  he 
returns  ;  entertain  him  with  wine— and  when  Ameni  sees 
the  distracted  wretch,  why  should  he  not  believe  that  in  a 
fit  of  craziness  he  sailed  past  Chennu  ? " 

"That  is  clever!  that  is  splendid!"  exclaimed  Am. 
'  <  What  is  once  remarkable  never  becomes  common.  You 
were  the  greatest  of  singers— you  are  now  the  wisest  of 
women — my  lady  Beki." 

"  I  am  no  longer  Beki,  I  am  Hekt,"  said  the  old  woman, 

shortly.  ,       ,  _  , 

"As  you  will.  In  truth,  if  I  had  ever  heard  Beki  s 
singing,  I  should  be  bound  to  still  greater  gratitude  to  her 


UARDA. 


357 


than  I  now  am  to  Hekt,"  said  Ani,  smiling.  "  Still,  I 
cannot  quit  the  wisest  woman  in  Thebes  without  asking 
her  one  serious  question.  Is  it  given  to  you  to  read  the 
future  ?  Have  you  means  at  your  command  whereby  you 
can  see  whether  the  great  stake— you  know  which  I  mean 
— shall  be  won  or  lost  ?  " 

Hekt  looked  at  the  ground,  and  said,  after  reflecting  a 
short  time  : 

"I  cannot  decide  with  certainty,  but  thy  affair  stands 
well.  Look  at  those  two  hawks  with  the  chain  on  their 
feet.  They  take  their  food  from  no  one  but  me.  The  one 
that  is  moulting,  with  closed,  gray  eyelids^  is  Rameses  ; 
the  smart,  smooth  one,  with  shining  eyes,  is  thyself.  It 
comes  to  this— which  of  you  lives  the  longest.  So  far, 
thou  hast  the  advantage. " 

Ani  cast  an  evil  glance  at  the  king  s  sick  hawk ;  but 
Hekt  said:  "Both  must  be  treated  exactly  alike.  Fate 
will  not  be  done  violence  10/' 

"Feed  them  well,"  exclaimed  the  regent  ;  he  threw  a 
purse  into  Hekt's  lap,  and  added,  as  he  prepared  to  leave 
her:  "  If  anything  happens  to  either  of  the  birds  let  me 
know  at  once  by  Nemu." 

Ani  went  down  the  hill,  and  walked  toward  the  neigh- 
boring tomb  of  his  father ;  but  Hekt  laughed  as  she  looked 
after  him,  and  muttered  to  herself : 

"Now  the  fool  will  take  care  of  me  for  the  sake  of  his 
bird !  That  smiling,  spiritless,  indolent-minded  man 
would  rule  Egypt !  Am  I  then  so  much  wiser  than  other 
folks,  or  do  none  but  fools  come  to  consult  Hekt?  But 
Rameses  chose  Ani  to  represent  him  !  perhaps  because  he 
thinks  that  those  who  are  not  particularly  clever  are  not 
particularly  dangerous.  If  that  is  what  he  thought,  he 
was  not  wise,  for  no  one  usually  is  so  self-confident  and 
insolent  as  just  such  an  idiot." 


35» 


UARDA. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

An  hour  later,  Ani,  in  rich  attire,  left  his  father's  tomb, 
and  drove  his  brilliant  chariot  past  the  witch's  cave,  and 
the  little  cottage  of  Uarda's  father. 

Nemu  squatted  on  the  step,  the  dwarf's  usual  place. 
The  little  man  looked  down  at  the  lately  rebuilt  hut,  and 
ground  his  teeth,  when,  through  an  opening  in  the  hedge, 
he  saw  the  white  robe  of  a  man,  who  was  sitting  by 
Uarda. 

The  pretty  child's  visitor  was  Prince  Rameri,  who  had 
crossed  the  Nile  in  the  early  morning,  dressed  as  a  young 
scribe  of  the  treasury,  to  obtain  news  of  Pentaur — and  to 
stick  a  rose  into  Uarda's  hair. 

This  purpose  was,  indeed,  the  more  important  of  the  two, 
for  the  other  must,  in  point  of  time  at  any  rate,  be  the 
second. 

Ho  found  it  necessary  to  excuse  himself  to  his  own  con- 
science with  a  variety  of  cogent  reasons.  In  the  first  place 
the  rose,  which  lay  carefully  secured  in  a  fold  of  his  robe, 
ran  great  danger  of  fading  if  he  first  waited  for  his  com- 
panions near  the  temple  of  Seti ;  next,  a  hasty  return  from 
thence  to  Thebes  might  prove  necessary  ;  and  finally,  it 
seemed  to  him  not  impossible  that  Bent-Anat  might  send 
a  master  of  the  ceremonies  after  him,  and  if  that  hap- 
dened  any  delay  might  frustrate  his  purpose. 

His  heart  beat  loud  and  violently,  not  for  love  of  the 
maiden,  but  because  he  felt  he  was  doing  wrong. 

The  spot  that  he  must  tread  was  unclean,  and  he  had, 
for  the  first  time,  told  a  lie.  He  had  given  himself  out  to 
Uarda  to  be  a  noble  youth  of  Bent-Anat  s  train,  and  as 
one  falsehood  usually  entails  another,  in  answer  to  her 
questions  he  had  given  her  false  information  as  to  his 
parents  and  his  life. 

Had  evil  more  power  over  him  in  this  unclean  spot 
than  in  the  House  of  Seti,  and  at  his  father's  ?  It  might 
very  well  be  so,  for  all  disturbance  in  nature  and  men  was 


UARDA. 


359 


the  work  of  Seth,  and  how  wild  was  the  storm  in  his 
breast !  And  yet  !  He  wished  nothing  but  good  to  come 
of  it  to  Uarda.  She  was  so  fair  and  sweet — like  some 
child  of  the  gods  :  and  certainly  the  white  maiden  must 
have  been  stolen  from  some  one,  and  could  not  possibly 
belong  to  the  unclean  people. 

When  the  prince  entered  the  court  of  the  hut,  Uarda 
was  not  to  be  seen,  but  he  soon  heard  her  voice  singing 
out  through  the  open  door.  She  came  out  into  the  air, 
for  the  dog  barked  furiously  at  Rameri.  When  she  saw 
the  prince,  she  started,  and  said  : 

"  You  are  here  already  again,  and  yet  I  warned  you. 
My  grandmother  in  there  is  the  wife  of  a  paraschites." 

"  I  am  not  come  to  visit  her,"  retorted  the  prince,  "  but 
you  only  ;  and  you  do  not  belong  to  them,  of  that  I  am 
convinced.    No  roses  grow  in  the  desert." 

"  And  yet  I  am  my  fathers  child,"  said  Uarda,  decid- 
edly, "  and  my  poor  dead  grandfather's  grandchild. 
Certainly  I  belong  to  them,  and  those  that  do  not  think 
me  good  enough  for  them  may  keep  away." 

With  these  words  she  turned  to  re-enter  the  house ;  but 
Rameri  seized  her  hand  and  held  her  back,  saying  : 

"  How  cruel  you  are  !  I  tried  to  save  you,  and  came 
to  see  you  before  I  thought  that  you  might — and,  indeed, 
you  are  quite  unlike  the  people  whom  you  call  your  re- 
lations. You  must  not  misunderstand  me  ;  but  it  would 
be  horrible  to  me  to  believe  that  you,  who  are  so  beautiful, 
and  as  white  as  a  lily,  have  any  part  in  the  hideous  curse. 
You  charm  every  one,  even  my  mistress,  Bent-Anat,  and 
it  seems  to  me  impossible  " 

"That  I  should  belong  to  the  unclean — say  it  out,  "said 
Uarda,  softly,  and  casting  down  her  eyes. 

Then  she  continued  more  excitedly  :  "  But  I  tell  you 
the  curse  is  unjust,  for  a  better  man  never  lived  than  my 
grandfather  was." 

Tears  sprang  from  her  eyes,  and  Rameri  said  :  "  I  fully 
believe  it  ;  and  it  must  be  very  difficult  to  continue  good 
when  every  one  despises  and  scorns  one  ;  I  at  least  can 
be  brought  to  no  good  by  blame,  though  I  can  by  praise. 
Certainly  people  are  obliged  to  meet  me  and  mine  with 
respect. " 

"And  us  with  contempt  !  "  exclaimed  Uarda.     "  But  I 


36° 


UARDA. 


will  tell  you  something.  If  a  man  is  sure  that  he  is  good, 
it  is  all  the  same  to  him  w  hether  he  be  despised  or  honored 
by  other  people.  Nay,  we  may  be  prouder  than  you  ;  for 
you  great  folks  must  often  say  to  yourselves  that  you  are 
worth  less  than  men  value  you  at,  and  we  know  that  we 
are  worth  more." 

"I  have  often  thought  that  of  you,"  exclaimed  Rameri, 
"and  there  is  one  who  recognizes  your  worth,  and  that  is 
I.  Even  if  it  were  otherwise,  I  must  always — always  think 
of  you." 

«  I  have  thought  of  you  too,"  said  Uarda.  "  Just  now, 
when  I  was  sitting  with  my  sick  grandmother,  it  passed 
through  my  mind  how  nice  it  would  be  if  I  had  a  brother 
just  like  you.  Do  you  know  what  I  should  do  if  you  were 
my  brother  ?  " 

"Well?" 

<<  I  should  buy  you  a  chariot  and  horse,  and  you  should 
go  away  to  the  kings  war." 

"Are  you  so  rich  ?  "  asked  Rameri,  smiling. 

"Oh,  yes!"  answered  Uarda.  "To  be  sure,  I  have 
not  been  rich  for  more  than  an  hour.    Can  you  read  ?  " 

"Yes. " 

"  Only  think,  when  I  was  ill  they  sent  a  doctor  to  me 
from  the  House  of  Seti.  He  was  very  clever,  but  a  strange 
man.  He  often  looked  into  my  eyes  like  a  drunken  man, 
and  he  stammered  when  he  spoke." 

"Is  his  name  Nebsecht?  "  asked  the  prince. 

"  Yes,  Nebsecht.  He  planned  strange  things  with  grand- 
father, and  after  Pentaur  and  you  had  saved  us  in  the 
frightful  attack  upon  us  he  interceded  for  us.  Since  then 
he  has  not  come  again,  for  I  was  already  much  better. 
Now  to-day,  about  two  hours  ago,  the  dog  barked,  and  an 
old  man,  a  stranger,  came  up  to  me  and  said  he  was 
Nebsecht's  brother,  and  had  a  great  deal  of  money  in  his 
charge  for  me.  He  gave  me  a  ring  too,  and  said  that  he 
would  pay  the  money  to  him  who  took  the  ring  to  him  from 
me.    Then  he  read  this  letter  to  me." 

Rameri  took  the  letter  and  read  : 

"Nebsecht  to  the  fair  Uarda. 

"Nebsecht  greets  Uarda,  and  informs  her  that  he  owed 
her  grandfather  in  Osiris,  Pinem— whose  body  the  kol- 
chytes  are  embalming  like  that  of  a  noble— a  sum  of  a 


UARDA. 


361 


thousand  gold  rings.  These  he  has  entrusted  to  his  brother 
Teta  to  hold  ready  for  her  at  any  moment.  She  may  trust 
Teta  entirely,  for  he  is  honest,  and  ask  him  for  money 
whenever  she  needs  it.  It  would  be  best  that  she  should 
ask  Teta  to  take  care  of  the  money  for  her,  and  to  buy 
her  a  house  and  field  ;  then  she  could  remove  into  it,  and 
live  in  it  free  from  care  with  her  grandmother.  She  may 
wait  a  year  and  then  she  may  choose  a  husband.  Neb- 
secht  loves  Uarda  much.  If  at  the  end  of  thirteen  months 
he  has  not  been  to  see  her,  she  had  better  marry  whom 
she  will ;  but  not  before  she  has  shown  the  jewel  left  her 
by  her  mother  to  the  king's  interpreter." 

"How  strange!"  exclaimed  Rameri.  "Who  would 
have  given  the  singular  physician,  who  always  wore  such 
dirty  clothes,  credit  for  such  generosity  ?  But  what  is  this 
jewel  that  you  have  ?  " 

Uarda  opened  her  shirt,  and  showed  the  prince  the 
sparkling  ornament. 

"Those  are  diamonds — it  is  very  valuable  !  "  cried  the 
prince;  "  and  there  in  the  middle  on  the  onyx  there  are 
sharply  engraved  signs.  I  cannot  read  them,  but  I  will 
show  them  to  the  interpreter.  Did  your  mother  wear 
that?" 

"  My  father  found  it  on  her  when  she  died,"  said  Uarda. 
"She  came  to  Egypt  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  and  was  as 
white  as  I  am,  but  dumb,  so  she  could  not  tell  us  the 
name  of  her  home." 

"She  belonged  to  some  great  house  among  the  foreign- 
ers, and  the  children  inherit  from  the  mother,"  cried  the 
prince,  joyfully.  "  You  are  a  princess,  Uarda  !  Oh,  how 
glad  I  am,  and  how  much  I  love  you  !  " 

The  girl  smiled  and  said,  "  Now  you  will  not  be  afraid 
to  touch  the  daughter  of  the  unclean." 

"You  are  cruel,"  replied  the  prince.  "Shall  I  tell  you 
what  I  determined  on  yesterday — what  would  not  let  me 
sleep  last  night — and  for  what  I  came  here  to-day  ?  " 

"Well?" 

Rameri  took  a  most  beautiful  white  rose  out  of  his  robe 
and  said  : 

"  It  is  very  childish,  but  I  thought  how  it  would  be  if  I 
might  put  this  flower  with  my  own  hands  into  your  shin- 
ing hair.    May  I  ? 99 


362 


UARDA. 


' 1  It  is  a  splendid  rose  !    I  never  saw  such  a  fine  one." 

"  It  is  for  my  haughty  princess.  Do  pray  let  me  dress 
your  hair  !  It  is  like  silk  from  Tyre,  like  a  swan's  breast, 
like  golden  star-beams— there,  it  is  fixed  safely  !  Nay, 
leave  it  so.  If  the  seven  Hathors  could  see  you,  ^they 
would  be  jealous,  for  you  are  fairer  than  all  of  them." 

"  How  you  flatter  !  "  said  Uarda,  shyly  blushing,  and 
looking  into  his  sparkling  eyes. 

< <  Uarda,"  said  the  prince,  pressing  her  hand  to  his 
heart,  "  I  have  now  but  one  wish.  Feel  how  my  heart 
hammers  and  beats.  I  believe  it  will  never  rest  again  till 
yOU_yes,  Uarda— till  you  let  me  give  you  one,  only  one, 
kiss. " 

The  girl  drew  back. 

"Now,"  she  said,  seriously.  "Now  I  see  what  you 
want.    Old  Hekt  knows  men,  and  she  warned  me." 

"Who  is  Hekt,  and  what  can  she  know  of  me  ?  " 

"She  told  me  that  the  time  would  come  when  a  man 
would  try  to  make  friends  with  me.  He  would  look  into 
me  eyes,  and  if  mine  met  his,  then  he  would  ask  to  kiss 
me.  But  I  must  refuse  him,  because  if  I  liked  him  to 
kiss  me  he  would  seize  my  soul,  and  take  it  from  me,  and 
I  must  wander,  like  the  restless  ghosts,  which  the  abyss 
rejects,  and  the  storm  whirls  before  it,  and  the  sea  will  not 
cover,  and  the  sky  will  not  receive,  soulless  to  the  end  of 
my  days.  Go  away — for  I  cannot  refuse  you  the  kiss,  and 
yet  I  would  not  wander  restless,  and  without  a  soul  !  " 

"  Is  the  old  woman  who  told  you  that  a  good  woman  ?  " 
asked  Rameri. 

Uarda  shook  her  head. 

"Then  it  cannot  be  true,"  cried  the  prince.  "Then 
she  has  spoken  a  falsehood.  I  will  not  seize  your  soul ;  I 
will  give  you  mine  to  be  yours,  and  you  shall  give  me  yours 
to  be  mine,  and  so  we  shall  neither  of  us  be  poorer — but 
both  richer  !  " 

"I  should  like  to  believe  it,"  said  Uarda,  thoughtfully, 
"and  I  have  thought  the  same  kind  of  thing.  When  I 
was  strong,  I  often  had  to  go  late  in  the  evening  to  fetch 
water  from  the  landing-place  where  the  great  water-wheel 
stands.  Thousands  of  drops  fall  from  the  earthenware 
pails  as  it  turns,  and  in  each  you  can  see  the  reflection  of  a 
moon,  yet  there  is  only  one  in  the  sky.    Then  I  thought 


UARDA. 


363 


to  myself,  so  it  must  be  with  the  love  in  our  hearts.  We 
have  but  one  heart,  and  yet  we  pour  it  out  into  other 
hearts  without  its  losing  in  strength  or  in  warmth.  I 
thought  of  my  grandmother,  of  my  father,  of  little 
Scherau,  of  the  gods,  and  of  Pentaur.  Now  I  should  like 
to  give  you  a  part  of  it  too." 

"Only  a  part  ?  "  asked  Rameri. 

"  Well,  the  whole  will  be  reflected  in  you,  you  know," 
said  Uarda,  ' '  as  the  whole  moon  is  reflected  in  each  drop. " 

"It  shall  !  "  cried  the  prince,  clasping  the  trembling  girl 
in  his  arms,  and  the  two  young  souls  were  united  in  their 
first  kiss. 

' '  Now  do  go  !  "  Uarda  entreated. 

"  Let  me  stay  a  little  while,"  said  Rameri.  "Sit  down 
here  by  me  on  the  bench  in  front  of  the  house.  The 
hedge  shelters  us,  and  besides  this  valley  is  now  deserted, 
and  there  are  no  passers-by." 

"We  are  doing  what  is  not  right,"  said  Uarda.  "  If  it 
were  right  we  should  not  want  to  hide  ourselves." 

"Do  you  call  that  wrong  which  the  priests  perform  in 
the  holy  of  holies  ?"  asked  the  prince.  "And  yet  it  is 
concealed  from  all  eyes." 

"  How  you  can  argue  !  "  laughed  Uarda.  "  That  shows 
you  can  write,  and  are  one  of  his  disciples." 

"  His,  his  !  "  exclamed  Rameri.  "You  mean  Pentaur. 
He  was  always  the  dearest  to  me  of  all  my  teachers,  but  it 
vexes  me  when  you  speak  of  him  as  if  he  were  more  to 
you  than  I  and  every  one  else.  The  poet,  you  said,  was 
one  of  the  drops  in  which  the  moon  of  your  soul  finds  a 
reflection — and  I  will  not  divide  it  with  many." 

"  How  you  are  talking  !  "  said  Uarda.  "  Do  you  not 
honor  your  father,  and  the  gods  ?  I  love  no  one  else  as  I 
do  yOU — and  what  I  felt  when  you  kissed  me — that  was  not 
like  moonlight,  but  like  this  hot  midday  sun.  When  I 
thought  of  you  I  had  no  peace.  I  will  confess  to  you  now, 
that  twenty  times  I  looked  out  of  the  door  and  asked 
whether  my  preserver — the  kind,  curly-headed  boy — would 
really  come  again,  or  whether  he  despised  a  poor  girl  like 
me?  You  came,  and  I  am  so  happy,  and  I  could  enjoy 
myself  with  you  to  my  heart's  content.  Be  kind  again — or 
I  will  pull  your  hair  !  " 

"  You  !  "  cried  Rameri.     "  You  cannot  hurt  with  your 


3^4 


UARDA. 


little  hands,  though  you  can  with  your  tougue.  Pentaur 
is  much  wiser  and  better  than  I,  you  owe  much  to  him, 

and  nevertheless  I  " 

Let  that  rest/' interrupted  the  girl,  growing  grave. 
"  He  is  not  a  man  like  other  men.  If  he  asked  to  kiss  me, 
I  should  crumble  into  dust,  as  ashes  dried  in  the  sun 
crumble  if  you  touch  them  with  a  finger,  and  I  should  be 
as  much  afraid  of  his  lips  as  of  a  lion's.  Though  you  may 
laugh  at  it,  I  shall  always  believe  that  he  is  one  of  the  im- 
mortals. His  own  father  told  me  that  a  great  wonder  was 
shown  to  him  the  very  day  after  his  birth.  Old  Hekt  has 
often  sent  me  to  the  gardener  with  a  message  to  inquire 
after  his  son,  and  though  the  man  is  rough  he  is  kind.  At 
first  he  was  not  friendly,  but  when  he  saw  how  much  I 
liked  his  flowers  he  grew  fond  of  me,  and  set  me  to  work 
to  tie  wreaths  and  bunches,  and  to  carry  them  to  his  cus- 
tomers. As  we  sat  together,  laying  the  flowers  side  by 
side,  he  constantly  told  me  something  about  his  son,  and 
his  beauty,  and  goodness,  -and  wisdom.  When  he  was 
quite  a  little  boy  he  could  write  poems,  and  he  learned  to 
read  before  any  one  had  shown  him  how.  The  high-priest 
Ameni  heard  of  it  and  took  him  to  the  House  of  Seti,  and 
there  he  improved,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  gardener  ; 
not  long  after  I  went  through  the  garden  with  the  old  man. 
He  talked  of  Pentaur  as  usual,  and  then  stood  still  before 
a  noble  shrub  with  broad  leaves,  and  said,  '  My  son  is  like 
this  plant,  which  has  grown  up  close  to  me,  and  I  know 
not  how.  I  laid  the  seed  in  the  soil,  with  others  that  I 
bought  over  there  in  Thebes  ;  no  one  knows  where  it  came 
from,  and  yet  it  is  my  own.  It  certainly  is  not  a  native 
of  Egypt  ;  and  is  not  Pentaur  as  high  above  me  and  his 
mother  and  his  brothers  as  this  shrub  is  above  the  other 
flowers  ?  We  are  all  small  and  bony,  and  he  is  tall  and 
slim  ;  our  skin  is  dark  and  his  is  rosy  ;  our  speech  is  hoarse, 
his  is  sweet  as  a  song.  I  believe  he  is  a  child  of  the  gods 
that  the  Immortals  have  laid  in  my  homely  house.  Who 
knows  their  decrees  ? '  And  then  I  often  saw  Pentaur  at 
the  festivals,  and  asked  myself  which  of  the  other  priests 
of  the  temple  came  near  him  in  height  and  dignity  ?  I 
took  him  for  a  god,  and  when  I  saw  him  who  saved  my 
life  overcome  a  whole  mob  with  superhuman  strength, 
must  I  not  regard  him  as  a  superior  being  ?    I  look  up  to 


UARDA. 


him  as  to  one  of  them ;  but  I  could  never  iook  in  his  eyes 
as  I  do  in  yours.  It  would  not  make  my  blood  flow  faster  ; 
it  would  freeze  it  in  my  veins.  How  can  I  say  what  I 
mean  !  my  soul  looks  straight  out,  and  it  finds  you;  but 
to  find  him  it  must  look  up  to  the  heavens.  You  are  a 
fresh  rose-garland  with  which  I  crown  myself— he  is  a 
sacred  persea-tree*  before  which  I  bow." 

Rameri  listened  to  her  in  silence,  and  then  said,  "  I  am 
still  young,  and  have  done  nothing  yet,  but  the  time  shall 
come  in  which  you  shall  look  up  to  me  too  as  to  a  tree, 
not  perhaps  a  sacred  tree,  but  as  to  a  sycamore  under 
whose  shade  we  love  to  rest.  I  am  no  longer  gay  ;  I  will 
leave  you,  for  I  have  a  serious  duty  to  fulfill.  Pentaur  is 
a  complete  man,  and  I  will  be  one  too.  But  you  shall  be 
the  rose-garland  to  grace  me.  Men  who  can  be  com- 
pared to  flowers  disgust  me  !  " 

The  prince  rose  and  offered  Uarda  his  hand. 
"  You  have  a  strong  hand,"  said  the  girl.  "  You  will 
be  a  noble  man,  and  work  for  good  and  great  ends  ; 
only  look,  my  fingers  are  quite  red  with  being  held  so 
tightly.  But  they  too  are  not  quite  useless.  They  have 
never  done  anything  very  hard  certainly,  but  what  they 
tend  flourishes,  and  grandmother  says  they  are  '  lucky/ 
Look  at  the  lovely  lilies  and  the  pomegranate  bush  in  that 
corner.  Grandfather- brought  the  earth  here  from  the 
Nile,  Pentaur  s  father  gave  me  the  seeds,  and  each  little 
plant  that  ventured  to  show  a  green  shoot  through  the 
soil  I  sheltered  and  nursed  and  watered,  though  I  had  to 
fetch  the  water  in  my  little  pitcher,  till  it  was  vigorous, 
and  thanked  me  with  flowers.  Take  this  pomegranate 
flower.  It  is  the  first  my  tree  has  borne  ;  and  it  is  very 
strange,  when  the  bud  first  began  to  lengthen  and  swell 
my  grandmother  said,  '  Now  your  heart  will  soon  begin 
to  bud  and  love/  I  know  now  what  she  meant,  and  both 
the  first  flowers  belong  to  you— the  red  one  here  off  the 
tree,  and  the  other,  which  you  cannot  see,  but  which 
glows  as  brightly  as  this  does. " 

Rameri  pressed  the  scarlet  blossom  to  his  lips,  and 
stretched  out  his  hand  toward  Uarda  ;  but  she  shrank 
back,  for  a  little  figure  slipped  through  an  opening  in  the 
hedge. 

*  Persea,  probably  Balanistes  ^Egyptiaca. 


366 


UARDA. 


It  was  Scherau. 

His  pretty  little  face  glowed  with  his  quick  run,  and  his 
breath  was  gone.  For  a  few  minutes  he  tried  in  vain  for 
words,  and  looked  anxiously  at  the  prince. 

Uarda  saw  that  something  unusual  agitated  him  ;  she 
spoke  to  him  kindly,  saying^  that  if  he  wished  to  speak  to 
her  alone  he  need  not  be  afraid  of  Rameri,  for  he  was  her 
best  friend. 

"But  it  does  not  concern  you  and  me,"  replied  the 
child,  "but  the  good,  holy  father  Pentaur,  who  was  so 
kind  to  me,  and  who  saved  your  life." 

"  I  am  a  great  friend  of  Pentaur,"  said  the  prince.  "Is 
it  not  true,  Uarda?  He  may  speak  with  confidence  be- 
fore me." 

"  I  may  ?  "  said  Scherau,  "that  is  well.  I  have  slipped 
away  ;  Hekt  may  come  back  at  any  moment,  and  if  she 
sees  that  I  have  taken  myself  off  I  shall  get  a  beating  and 
nothing  to  eat." 

"Who  is  this  horrible  Hekt?"  asked  Rameri,  indig- 
nantly. 

"That  Uarda  can  tell  you  by  and  by,"  said  the  little 
one,  hurriedly.  "Now  only  listen.  She  laid  me  on  my 
board  in  the  cave,  and  threw  a  sack  over  me,  and  first 
came  Nemu,  and  then  another  man,  whom  she  spoke  to 
as  '  Steward/  She  talked  to  him  a  long  time.  At  first  I 
did  not  listen,  but  then  I  caught  the  name  of  Pentaur,  and 
I  got  my  head  out,  and  now  I  understand  it  all.  The 
steward  declared  that  the  good  Pentaur  was  wicked,  and 
stood  in  his  way,  and  he  said  that  Ameni  was  going  to 
send  him  to  the  quarries  at  Chennu,  but  that  was  much 
too  small  a  punishment.  Then  Hekt  advised  him  to  give 
a  secret  commission  to  the  captain  of  the  ship  to  go  beyond 
Chennu,  to  the  frightful  mountain-mines,  of  which  she 
has  often  told  me,  for  her  father  and  her  brother  were  tor- 
mented to  death  there." 

'  ■  None  ever  return  from  thence, "  said  the  prince.  ' s  But 
go  on." 

"What  came  next,  I  only  half  understood,  but  they 
spoke  of  some  drink  that  makes  people  mad.  Oh  !  what 
I  see  and  hear  !  I  would  lie  contentedly  on  my  board  all 
my  life  long,  but  all  else  is  too  horrible — I  wish  that  I 
were  dead  " 


UARDA. 


3*7 


And  the  child  began  to  cry  bitterly.  . 
Uarda,  whose  cheeks  had  turned  pale,  patted  him  affec- 
tionately ;  but  Rameri  exclaimed  : 

^  It  is  frightful !  unheard  of  !  But  who  was  the  stew- 
ard ?  did  you  not  hear  his  name?  Collect  yourself,  little 
man,  and  stop  crying.  It  is  a  case  of  life  and  death. 
Who  was  the  scoundrel  ?  Did  she  not  name  him.  Try 
to  remember." 

Scherau  bit  his  red  lips,  and  tried  for  composure.  His 
tears  ceased,  and  suddenly  he  exclaimed,  as  he  put  his 
hand  into  the  breast  of  his  ragged  little  garment^  ' '  Stay, 
perhaps  you  will  know  him  again — I  made  him  !  " 
«  You  did  what  ?  "  asked  the  prince. 
"I  made  him,"  repeated  the  little  artist,  and  he  care- 
fully brought  out  an  object  wrapped  up  in  a  scrap  of  rag. 
"I  could  see  his  head  quite  clearly  from  one  side  all  the 
time  he  was  speaking,  and  my  clay  lay  by  me.  I  al- 
ways must  model  something  when  my  mind  is  excited, 
and  this  time  I  quickly  made  his  face,  and  as  the  image 
was  successful,  I  kept  it  about  me  to  show  to  the  master 
when  Hekt  was  out." 

While  he  spoke  he  had  carefully  unwrapped  the  figure 
with  trembling  fingers,  and  had  given  it  to  Uarda. 

"  Ani  !  "  cried  the  prince.  "  He,  and  no  other  !  Who 
could  have  thought  it  ?  What  spite  has  he  against  Pen- 
taur  ?    What  is  the  priest  to  him  ?  " 

For  a  moment  he  reflected,  then  he  struck  his  hand 
against  his  forehead.  _ 

"  Fool  that  lam!"  he  exclaimed,  vehemently.  "  Child 
that  I  am  !  of  course,  of  course  ;  I  see  it  all.  Ani  asked 
for  Bent-Anat's  hand,  and  she— now  that  I  love  you,  Uarda, 
I  understand  what  ails  her.  Away  with  deceit  !  I  will 
tell  you  no  more  lies,  Uarda.  I  am  no  page  of  honor  to 
Bent-Anat  :  I  am  her  brother,  and  King  Rameses'  own 
son.  Do  not  cover  your  face  with  your  hands,  Uarda, 
for  if  I  had  not  seen  your  mother's  jewel,  and  if  I  were 
not  only  a  prince,  but  Horus  himself,  the  son  of  Isis,  I 
must  have  loved  you,  and  would  not  have  given  you  up. 
But  now  other  things  have  to  be  done  besides  lingering 
with  you  ;  now  I  will  show  you  that  I  am  a  man,  now 
that  Pentaur  is  to  be  saved.  Farewell,  Uarda,  and  think 
of  me  1  " 


368 


UARDA. 


He  would  have  hurried  off,  but  Scherau  held  him  by  the 
robe,  and  said,  timidly  :  "Thou  sayst  thou  art  Rameses' 
son.  Hekt  spoke  of  him  too.  She  compared  him  to  our 
moulting  hawk."  jf 

"She  shall  soon  feel  the  talons  of  the  royal  eagle,"  cried 
Rameri.     "Once  more,  farewell !  " 

He  gave  Uarda  his  hand,  she  pressed  it  passionately  to 
her  lips,  but  he  drew  it  away,  kissed  her  forehead,  and  was 
gone. 

The  maiden  looked  after  him  pale  and  speechless. 

She  saw  another  man  hastening  toward  her,  and  recog- 
nizing him  as  her  father,  she  went  quickly  to  meet  him. 
The  soldier  had  come  to  take  leave  of  her ;  he  had  to  escort 
some  prisoners. 

"To  Chennu  ?  "  asked  Uarda. 

"No,  to  the  north,"  replied  the  man. 

His  daughter  now  related  what  she  had  heard,  and 
asked  whether  he  could  help  the  priest,  who  had  saved  her. 

"  If  I  had  money,  if  I  had  money  !  "  muttered  the  soldier 
to  himself. 

"We  have  some,"  cried  Uarda;  she  told  him  of  Neb- 
secht's  gift,*  and  said  :  "Take  me  over  the  Nile,  and.  in 
two  hours  you  will  have  enough  to  make  a  man  rich. 
But  no  ;  I  cannot  leave  my  sick  grandmother.  You  your- 
self take  the  ring,  and  remember  that  Pentaur  is  being 
punished  for  having  dared  to  protect  us." 

"I  remember  it,"  said  the  soldier.  "I  have  but  one 
life,  but  I  will  willingly  give  it  to  save  his.  I  cannot  de- 
vise schemes,  but  I  know  something,  and  if  it  succeeds  he 
need  not  go  to  the  gold  mines.  I  will  put  the  wine-flask 
aside  ;  give  me  a  drink  of  water,  for  the  next  few  hours  I 
must  keep  a  sober  head." 

"There  is  the  water,  and  1  will  pour  in  a  mouthful  of 
wine.    Will  you  come  back  and  bring  me  news  ?  " 

'  'That  will  not  do,  for  we  set  sail  at  midnight,  but  if 
some  one  returns  to  you  with  the  ring  you  will  know  that 
what  I  propose  has  succeeded." 

*  It  may  be  observed  that  among  the  Egyptians  women  were  qualified  to 
own  and  dispose  of  property.  For  example  a  papyrus  (VII)  in  the  Louvre 
contains  an  agreement  between  Asklepias  (called  Senimuthis),  the 
daughter  or  maid-servant  of  a  corpse-dresser  of  Thebes,  who  is  the 
debtor,  and  Arsiesis,  the  creditor,  the  son  of  a  Kolchytes  ;  both,  there- 
fore, are  of  the  same  rank  as  Uarda. 


UARDA.  36J 

Uarda  went  into  the  hut,  her  father  followed  her  ;  he 
took  leave  of  his  sick  mother  and  of  his  daughter.  When 
they  went  out  of  doors  again,  he  said  :  "  You  have  to  live 
on  the  princess'  gift  till  I  return,  and  I  do  not  want  halt 
of  the  physician's  present.  But  where  is  your  pome- 
granate blossom  ? "  ,  .  .         ,  , 

"  I  have  picked  it  and  preserved  it  in  a  safe  place. 

"Strange  things  are  women!"  muttered  the  bearded 
man  ;  he  tenderly  kissed  his  child's  forehead,  and  returned 
to  the  Nile  down  the  road  by  which  he  had  come. 

The  prince  meanwhile  had  hurried  on,  and  inquired  in 
the  harbor  of  the  Necropolis  where  the  vessel  destined  tor 
Chennu  was  lying-for  the  ships  loaded  with  prisoners 
were  accustomed  to  sail  from  this  side  of  the  river,  start- 
ing at  night.  Then  he  was  ferried  over  the  river,  and 
hastened  to  Bent-Anat.  He  found  her  and  Nefert  in  un- 
usual excitement,  for  the  faithful  chamberlain  had  learned 
—through  some  friends  of  the  king  in  Anis  suite— that 
the  regent  had  kept  back  all  the  letters  intended  for  Syria, 
and  among  them  those  of  the  royal  family. 

A  lord  in  waiting,  who  was  devoted  to  the  king,  had 
been  encouraged  by  the  chamberlain  to  communicate  to 
Bent-Anat  other  things,  which  hardly  allowed  any  doubts 
as  to  the  ambitious  projects  of  her  uncle  ;  she  was  also  ex- 
horted to  be  on  her  guard  with  Nefert,  whose  mother  was 
the  confidential  adviser  of  the  regent. 

Bent-Anat  smiled  at  this  warning,  and  sent  at  once  a 
message  to  Ani  to  inform  him  that  she  was  ready  to  un- 
dertake the  pilgrimage  to  the  "  Emerald-Hathor,  and  to 
be  purified  in  the  sanctuary  of  that  goddess. 

She  purposed  sending  a  message  to  her  father  from 
thence,  and  if  he  permitted  it,  joining  him  at  the  camp. 

She  imparted  this  plan  to  her  friend,  and  Nefert  thought 
any  road  the  best  that  would  take  her  to  her  husband. 

Rameri  was  soon  initiated  into  all  this,  and  m  return  he 
told  them  all  he  had  learned,  and  let  Bent-Anat  guess  that 
he  had  read  her  secret. 

So  dignified,  so  grave,  were  the  conduct  and  the  speecn 
of  the  boy  who  had  so  lately  been  an  overbearing  madcap, 
that  Bent-Anat  thought  to  herself  that  the  danger  of  then 
house  had  suddenly  ripened  a  boy  into  a  man, 
24 


37° 


UARDA. 


She  had  in  fact  no  objection  to  raise  to  his  arrange- 
ments. He  proposed  to  travel  after  sunset,  with  a  few 
faithful  servants  on  swift  horses  as  far  as  Keft,*  and  from 
thence  ride  fast  across  the  desert  to  the  Red  Sea,  where 
they  could  take  a  Phoenician  ship,  and  sail  to'  Aila.f 
From  thence  they  would  cross  the  peninsula  of  Sinai,  and 
strive  to  reach  the  Egyptian  army  by  forced  marches,  and 
make  the  king  acquainted  with  Ani's  criminal  attempts. 

To  Bent-Anat  was  given  the  task  of  rescuing  Pentaur, 
with  the  help  of  the  faithful  chamberlain. 

Money  was  fortunately  not  wanting,  as  the  high  treasurer 
was  on  their  side.  All  depended  on  their  inducing  the 
captain  to  stop  at  Chennu  ;  the  poet  s  fate  would  there,  at 
the  worst,  be  endurable.  At  the  same  time,  a  trustworthy 
messenger  was  to  be  sent  to  the  governor  of  Chennu,  com- 
manding him  in  the  name  of  the  king  to  detain  every  ship 
that  might  pass  the  narrows  of  Chennu  by  night,  and  to 
prevent  any  of  the  prisoners  that  had  been  condemned  to 
the  quarries  from  being  smuggled  on  to  Ethiopia. 

Rameri  took  leave  of  the  two  women,  and  he  succeeded 
in  leaving  Thebes  unobserved. 

Bent-Anat  knelt  in  prayer  before  the  images  of  her 
mother  in  Osiris,  of  Hathor,  and  of  the  guardian  gods  of 
her  house*  till  the  chamberlain  returned,  and  told  her  that 
he  had  persuaded  the  captain  of  the  ship  to  stop  at  Chennu, 
and  to  conceal  from  Ani  that  he  had  betrayed  his  charge. 

The  princess  breathed  more  freely,  for  she  had  come  to 
a  resolution  that  if  the  chamberlain  had  failed  in  his  mis- 
sion, she  would  cross  over  to  the  Necropolis,  forbid  the 
departure  of  the  vessel,  and  in  the  last  extremity  rouse  the 
people,  who  were  devoted  to  her,  against  Ani. 

The  following  morning  the  lady  Katuti  craved  permis- 
sion of  the  princess  to  see  her  daughter.  Bent-Anat  did 
not  show  herself  to  the  widow,  whose  efforts  failed  to  keep 
her  daughter  from  accompanying  the  princess  on  her 
journey,  or  to  induce  her  to  return  home.  Angry  and 
uneasy,  the  indignant  mother  hastened  to  Ani,  and 
implored  him  to  keep  Nefert  at  home  by  force  ;  but  the 
regent  wished  to  avoid  attracting  attention,  and  to  let 
Bent-Anat  set  out  with  a  feeling  of  complete  security. 


*  Koptos,  now  Qef t  on  the  Nile, 


t  Now  Aqaba, 


UARDA.  37 1 


"Do  not  be  uneasy,"  he  said.    "  I  will  give  the  ladies  a 
trustworthy  escort,  who  will  keep  them  at  the  sanctuary 
o the  'Emerald-Hathor'  till  all  is  settled.    There  you 
can  deliver  Nefert  to  Paaker,  if  you  still  like  to .have him 
for  a  son-in-law  after  hearing  several,  things  that  I  have 
earned.    As  for  me,  in  the  end  I  may  induce  my  haughty 
ntece  to  look  up  instead  of  down  ;  I  may  be  her  second 
love  though  for  that  matter  she  certainly  is  not  my  first. 
On  the  following  day  the  princess  set  out 
Anitook  leave  of  her  with  kindly  formality  which  she 
returned  with  coolness.    The  priesthood  of  the  temple  of 
Amon  with  old  Bek-en-Chunsu  at  their  head  escorted  her 
to  the  harbor.    The  people  on  the  banks  shouted  Bent- 
Anat's  name  with  a  thousand  blessings,  but  many  insulting 
words  were  to  be  heard  also. 

The  pilgrim's  Nile-boat  was  followed  by  two  others,  full 
of  soldierstwho  accompanied  the  ladies  <<  to -protec 

The  south  wind  filled  the  sails  and  carried  the  little  pro- 
cession swiftly  down  the  stream.  The  princess  looked  now 
Sward  the  palace  of  her  fathers,  now  toward  the  tombs 
and  temples  of  the  Necropolis.  At  last  even  the  colossus 
of  Amenophis  disappeared,  and  the  last  houses  o Thebes. 
The  brave  maiden  sighed  deeply,  and  tears  rolled  down 
her  cheeks.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  flying  after  a  lost 
battle  and  yet  not  wholly  discouraged,  but  hoping  for 
Su  re  victory.  As  she  turned  to  go  to  the  cabin  a  veiled 
girl  stepped  up  to  her,  took  the  veil  from  her  face,  and 

- Pardon  me,  princess;  I  am  Uarda,  whom  thou  didst 
run  over,  and  to  whom  thou  hast  since  been  so  good.  My 
grandmother  is  dead,  and  I  am  quite  alone.  I  slipped  in 
Lone  thy  maid-servants,  for  I  wish  to  follow  thee  and  to 
obey  all  thy  commands.    Only  do  not  send  me  away. 

"  Stay,  dear  child,"  said  the  princess,  laying  her  hand 

°\hheernhstruck  by  its  wonderful  beauty,  she  remembered 
her  brother,  and  his  wish  to  place  a  rose  in  Uarda  s  shin- 
ing tresses. 


37*  UARDA. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Two  months  had  passed  since  Bent-Anat's  departure 
from  Thebes  and  the  imprisonment  of  Pentaur. 

Ant-Baba  is  the  name  of  the  valley,  in  the  western  half 
of  the  peninsula  of  Sinai,  through  which  a  long  procession 
of  human  beings,  and  of  beasts  of  burden,  wended  their 
way. 

.  lt  was  winter,  and  yet  the  midday  sun  sent  down  glow- 
ing rays,  which  were  reflected  from  the  naked  rocks.  In 
front  of  the  caravan  marched  a  company  of  Libyan  soldiers 
and  another  brought  up  the  rear.  Each  man  was  armed 
with  a  dagger  and  battle-ax,  a  shield  and  a  lance,  and  was 
ready  to  use  his  weapons ;  for  those  whom  they  were 
escorting  were  prisoners  from  the  emerald  mines,  who  had 
been  convoyed  to  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea  to  carry  thither 
the  produce  of  the  mines,  and  had  received,  as  a  return 
load,  provisions  which  had  arrived  from  Egypt,  and  which 
vvere  to  be  carried  to  the  store-houses  of  the  mountain  mines. 
Bent  and  panting,  they  made  their  way  along.  Each  pris- 
oner had  a  copper  chain  riveted  round  his  ankles,  and  torn 
rags  hanging  round  their  loins  were  the  only  -clothing  of 
these  unhappy  beings,  who,  gasping  under  the  weight  of 
the  sacks  they  had  to  carry,  kept  their  staring  eyes  fixed 
on  the  ground.  If  one  of  them  threatened  to  sink 
altogether  under  his  burden,  he  was  refreshed  by  the  whip 
of  one  of  the  horsemen,  who  accompanied  the  caravan. 
Many  a  one  found  it  hard  to  choose  whether  he  could  best 
endure  the  sufferings  of  mere  endurance,  or  the  torture  of 
the  lash. 

No  one  spoke  a  word,  neither  the  prisoners  nor  their 
guards  ;  and  even  those  who  were  flogged  did  not  cry  out 
for  their  powers  were  exhausted,  and  in  the  souls  of  their 
drivers  there  was  no  more  impulse  of  pity  than  there  was 
a  green  herb  on  the  rocks  by  the  way.  This  melancholy 
procession  moved  silently  onward,  like  a  procession  of 
phantoms,  and  the  ear  was  only  made  aware  of  it  when 


UARDA.  373 

now  and  then  a  low  groan   broke  from  one  of  the 

V1ThTsandy  path,  trodden  by  their  naked  feet  gave  no 
sound  the  mountains  seemed  to  withhold  their  shade,  the 
light  of  day  was  a  torment  —  everything  far  and  near 
slemed  inimical  to  the  living.  Not  a  plant,  not  a  creep- 
ing thing  showed  itself  against  the  weird  forms  of  the 
barren  fray  and  brown  rocks,  and  no  soaring  bird 
tempted  the  oppressed  wretches  to  raise  their  eyes  to 

heinethe  noontide  heat  of  the  previous  day  they  had 
started  with  their  loads  from  the  harbor-creek.  For  two 
hours  they  had  followed  the  shore  of  the  glistening,  blue- 
green  sea,*  then  they  had  climbed  a  rocky  shoulder  and 
crossed  a  small  plateau.  They  had  paused  for  their  night  s 
rest  in  the  gorge  which  led  to  the  mines  ;  the  guides  and 
soldiers  lighted  fires,  grouped  themselves  round  hem 
and  lay  down  to  sleep  under  the  shelter  of  a  deft  in  the 
rocks  ■  the  prisoners  stretched  themselves  on  the  earth  in 
the  middle  of  the  valley  without  any  shelter,  and  shiver- 
ing with  the  cold  which  suddenly  succeeded  the  glowing 
heat  of  the  day.  The  benumbed  wretches  now  looked  tor- 
ward  to  the  crushing  misery  of  the  mornings  labor  as 
eagerly  as,  a  few  hours  since,  they  had  longed  for  the 
night  and  for  rest. 

Lentil-broth  and  hard  bread  in  abundance,  but  a  very 
small  quantity  of  water,  was  given  to  them  before  they 
started  ;  then  they  set  out  through  the  gorge,  which  grew 
hotter  and  hotter,  and  through  ravines  where  they  could 
pass  only  one  by  one.  Every  now  and  then  it  seemed  as 
if  the  path  came  to  an  end,  but  each  time  it  found  an  outlet, 
and  went  on— as  endless  as  the  torment  of  the  wayfarers 
Mighty  walls  of  rock  composed  the  view,  looking  as  it 
they  were  formed  of  angular  masses  of  hewn  stone  piled 
up  in  rows  ;  and  of  all  the  miners  one,  and  one  only  had 
eyes  for  these  curious  structures  of  the  ever  various  liana 
of  nature. 

*The  Red  Sea— in  Hebrew  and  Coptic  the  reedy  sea—is  of  a  lovely 
blue  green  color.  According  to  the  ancients  it  was  named  red  either  from 
its  red  banks  or  from  the  Erythraean*,  who  were  called  the  red  people. 
On  an  early  inscription  it  is  called  »  the  water  of  the  Red  country.'  See 

ii   PAnnn     1 1 vyi  Qinai 


374 


UARDA. 


This  one  had  broader  shoulders  than  his  companions, 
and  his  burden  weighed  on  him  comparatively  lightly. 

"  In  this  solitude/'  thought  he,  "  which  repels  man,  and 
forbids  his  passing  his  life  here,  the  Chennu,  the  laborers 
who  form  the  world,  have  spared  themselves  the  trouble 
of  filling  up  the  seams,  and  rounding  off  the  corners. 
How  is  it  that  men  should  have  dedicated  this  hideous 
land — in  which  even  human  heart  seems  to  be  hardened 
against  all  piety— to  the  merciful  Hathor  ?  Perhaps  because 
it  so  sorely  stands  in  need  of  joy  and  peace  which  the 
loving  goddess  alone  can  bestow." 

"Keep  the  line,  Huni  !  "  shouted  a  driver. 

The  man  thus  addressed  closed  up  to  the  next  man, 
the  panting  leech  Nebsecht.  We  know  the  other  stronger 
prisoner.  It  is  Pentaur,  who  had  been  entered  as  Huni  on 
the  lists  of  mine-laborers,  and  was  called  by  that  name. 
The  file  moved  on  ;  at  every  step  the  ascent  grew  more 
rugged.  Red  and  black  fragments  of  stone,  broken  as 
small  as  if  by  the  hand  of  man,  lay  in  great  heaps,  or 
strewed  the  path  which  led  up  the  almost  perpendicular 
cliff  by  imperceptible  degrees.  Here  another  gorge  opened 
before  them,  and  this  time  there  seemed  to  be  no  outlet. 

"Load  the  asses  less  !  "  cried  the  captain  of  the  escort 
to  the  prisoners.  Then  he  turned  to  the  soldiers,  and 
ordered  them,  when  the  beasts  were  eased,  to  put  the 
extra  burdens  on  the  men.  Putting  forth  their  utmost 
strength,  the  overloaded  men  labored  up  the  steep  and 
hardly  distinguishable  mountain  path. 

The  man  in  front  of  Pentaur,  a  lean  old  man,  when  half 
way  up  the  hill-side,  fell  in  a  heap  under  his  load,  and  a 
driver,  who  in  the  narrow  defile  could  not  reach  the  bear- 
ers, threw  a  stone  at  him  to  urge  him  to  a  renewed  effort. 

The  old  man  cried  out  at  the  blow,  and  at  the  cry — the 
paraschites  stricken  down  with  stones — his  own  struggle 
with  the  mob — and  the  appearance  of  Bent-Anat  flashed 
into  Pentaur  s  memory.  Pity  and  a  sense  of  his  own 
healthy  vigor  prompted  him  to  energy  ;  he  hastily  snatched 
the  sack  from  the  shoulders  of  the  old  man,  threw  it  over 
his  own,  helped  up  the  fallen  wretch,  and  finally  men  and 
beasts  succeeded  in  mounting  the  rocky  wall. 

The  pulses  throbbed  in  Pentaur's  temples,  and  he  shud- 
dered with  horror  as  he  looked  down  from  the  height  of 


UARDA.  37S 


the  pass  into  the  abyss  below,  and  round  upon  the  count- 
ess pinnacles  and  peaks,  cliffs  and  precipices,  in  many 
colored  rocks-white  and  gray,  sulphurous  yellow  blood- 
red  and  ominous  black.  He  recalled  the  sacred  lake  of 
Muth  in  Thebes,  round  which  sat  a  hundred  statues  of  he 
Hon-headed  goddess  in  black,  each  on  a  pedestal ;  and  the 
rocky  peaks,  which  surrounded  the  valley  at  his  feet, 
seemed  to  put  on  a  semblance  of  life  and  to  move  and  open 
?hek  yawning  jaws  ;  through  the  wild  rush  of  blood  m  his 
ears  he  Tancfea  he  heard  them  roar,  and  the  load  beyond 
hi  strength  which  he  carried  gave  him  a  sensation  as 
though  their  clutch  was  on  his  breast. 

Nevertheless  he  reached  the  goal.  . 

f£  other  prisoners  flung  their  loads  from  their  shoul- 
ders and  threw  themselves  down  to  rest  Mechanically 
he  did  the  same  ;  his  pulses  beat  more  calmly  by  degrees 
Sre  visions  faded  froinhis  senses,  he  saw  and  hear I  one* 
more,  and  his  brain  recovered  its  balance.  The  old  man 
and  Nebsecht  were  lying  beside  him. 

His  gray-haired  companion  rubbed  the  swollen  veins  in 
his  neck,  and  called  down  all  the  blessings  of  the  gods 
upon  his  head;  but  the  captain  of  the  caravan  cut  him 

^^oThale  Itfength  for  three,  Huni ;  further  on,  we  will 

load  vou  more  heavily/'  - 

i  much  the  kindly  gods  care  for  our  prayers  for 
the  blessings  of  others  I  "  exclaimed  Nebsecht.  How 
well  they  know  how  to  reward  a  good  action  ! 

"  I  ana  rewarded  enough,"  said  Pentaur,  looking  kindly 
at  the  old  man.     ' '  But  you,  you  everlasting  scoffer-you 

^/slf  I  "rlotZ^I  'donkeys  there  "  replied  the 
naturalist  "My  knees  shake  like  theirs,  and  I  think  and 
?  S  neither  more  nor  less  than  they  do  ;  that  is  to  say 

 I  would  we  were  in  our  stalls. 

"If  you  can  think,"  said  Pentaur,  smiling,     you  are 
bad.  " 

n°" Thada  good  thought  just  now,  when  you  were  star- 
ing up  into  the  sky.    The  intellect,  say?  the  priestly  sages 
is  a  vivifying  breath  of  the  eternal  spirit,  and  our  sou  lis 
The  mold  or  core  for  the  mass  of  matter  which  we  call  a 
hurn^n  being.    I  sought  the  spirit  at  first  in  the  heart, 


376 


UARDA. 


then  in  the  brain  ;  but  now  I  know  that  it  resides  in  the 
arms  and  legs,  for  when  I  have  strained  them  I  find 
thought  is  impossible.  I  am  too  tired  to  enter  on  further 
evidence,  but  for  the  future  I  shall  treat  my  legs  with  the 
utmost  consideration." 

"Quarreling  again  you  two?  On  again,  men  !  "  cried 
the  driver. 

The  weary  wretches  rose  slowly,  the  beasts  were  loaded, 
and  on  went  the  pitiable  procession,  so  as  to  reach  the 
mines  before  sunset. 

The  destination  of  the  travelers  was  a  wide  valley, 
closed  in  by  two  high  and  rocky  mountain-slopes  ;  it  was 
called  Ta  Mafka  by  the  Egyptians,  Dophka  by  the  He- 
brews. The  southern  cliff-wall  consisted  of  dark  granite, 
the  northern  of  red  sandstone  ;  in  a  distant  branch  of  the 
valley  lay  the  mines  in  which  copper  was  found.  In  the 
midst  of  the  valley  rose  a  hill  surrounded  by  a  wall,  and 
crowned  with  small  stone  houses,  for  the  guard,'  the 
officers,  and  the  overseers.  According  to  the  old  regula- 
tions, they  were  without  roofs,  but  as  many  deaths  and 
much  sickness  had  occurred  among  the  workmen  in  con- 
sequence of  the  cold  nights,  they  had  been  slightly  shel- 
tered with  palm-branches  brought  from  the  oasis  of  the 
Amalekites,  at  no  great  distance, 

On  the  uttermost  peak  of  the  hill,  where  it  was  most 
exposed  to  the  wind,  were  the  smelting  furnaces,  and  a 
manufactory  where  a  peculiar  green  glass  was  prepared, 
which  was  brought  into  the  market  under  the  name  of 
Mafkat,  that  is  to  say,  emerald.  The  genuine  precious 
stone  was  found  further  to  the  south,  on  the  western  shore 
of  the  Red  Sea,  and  was  highly  prized  in  Egypt. 

Our  friends  had  already  for  more  than  a  month  belonged 
to  the  mining  community  of  the  Mafkat  valley,  and  Pen- 
taur  had  never  learned  how  it  was  that  he  had  been 
brought  hither  with  his  companion  Nebsecht,  instead  of 
going  to  the  sandstone  quarries  of  Chennu. 

That  Uarda's  father  had  effected  this  change  was  beyond 
a  doubt,  and  the  poet  trusted  the  rough  but  honest  sol- 
dier who  still  kept  near  him,  and  gave  him  credit  for  the 
best  intentions,  although  he  had  only  spoken  to  him  once 
since  their  departure  from  Thebes. 

That  was  the  first  night,  when  he  had  come  up  to  Pen- 


UARDA.  377 

""entlur  had  communicated  the  soldier's  advice  to  Neh- 
seciat  a°d  he  had  followed  it rim  hn,  own  way. 

ToULTto  exSfvagance,  with  which  the  mocking 

m^gll  husk  of  the  divine  self-conscionsness." 
..A„Aadevoca,e  of  righteousness  tat  on     e  mo  th  A 
juggler  who  make, ,  as  much  of  to  worst  o  £ 
worlds  as  if  he  vvere  the  best        An  o{  in. 

•"iSSSBft*  sparring  took  the  form  of a  serious  dij - 
cossion.  which  served  a  do »ble  PUrpos c^ta th err  m  uds 

hewing  the  ore  out  of  the  nam  roc*. 


\ 


378  UARDA. 

looked  in  surprise  at  his  powerful  strokes^  as  he  flung  his 
pick  against  the  stone. 

The  stupendous  images  that  in  such  moments  of  wild 
energy  rose  before  the  poet's  soul,  the  fearful  or  enchant- 
ing tones  that  rang  in  his  spirit's  ear — none  could  guess  at. 

Usually  his  excited  fancy  showed  him  the  form  of  Bent- 
Anat,  surrounded  by  a  host  of  men — and  these  he  seemed 
to  fell  to  the  earth,  one  by  one,  as  he  hewed  the  rock.  Often 
in  the  middle  of  his  work  he  would  stop,  throw  down  his 
pick-ax,  and  spread  out  his  arms — but  only  to  drop  them 
with  a  deep  groan,  and  wipe  the  sweat  from  his  brow. 

The  overseers  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  this  power- 
ful youth,  who  often  was  as  gentle  as  a  child,  and  then 
seemed  possessed  by  that  demon  to  which  so  many  of  the 
convicts  fell  victims.  He  had  indeed  become  a  riddle  to 
himself ;  for  how  was  it  that  he—  the  gardener's  son,  brought 
up  in  the  peaceful  temple  of  Seti — ever  since  that  night  by 
the  house  of  the  paraschites  had  had  such  a  perpetual  crav- 
ing for  conflict  and  struggle  ? 

The  weary  gangs  were  gone  to  rest ;  a  bright  fire  still 
blazed  in  front  of  the  house  of  the  superintendent  of  the 
mines,  and  round  it  squatted  in  a  circle  the  overseers  and 
the  subalterns  of  the  troops. 

"Put  the  wine-jar  round  again,"  said  the  captain,  "for 
we  must  hold  grave  council.  Yesterday  I  had  orders  from 
the  regent  to  send  half  the  guard  to  Pelusium.  He 
requires  soldiers,  but  we  are  so  few  in  number  that  if  the 
convicts  knew  it  they  might  make  short  work  of  us,  even 
without  arms.  There  are  stones  enough  hereabouts,  and 
by  day  they  have  their  hammer  and  chisel.*  Things  are 
worse  among  the  Hebrews  in  the  copper  mines  ;  they  are  a 
refractory  crew  that  must  be  held  tight.  You  know  me 
well,  fear  is  unknown  to  me — but  I  feel  great  anxiety. 
The  last  fuel  is  now  burning  in  this  fire,  and  the  smelting 
furnaces  and  the  glass  foundry  must  not  stand  idle.  To- 
morrow we  must  send  men  to  Raphidim  to  obtain  charcoal 
from  the  Amalekites.  They  owe  us  a  hundred  loads 
still.  Load  the  prisoners  with  some  copper,  to  make  them 
tired  and  the  natives  civil.  What  can  we  do  to  procure 
what  we  want,  and  yet  not  to  weaken  the  forces  here  too 
much  ? " 

*  The  chisels  were  in  the  shape  of  swallow-tails. 


UARDA.  379 
Various  opinions  were  given,  and  at last  it  was  settled 

dUThe'  superintendent  was  of  opinion  that  two  strong  men 
fettered  together  would  be  more  to  be  feared  d  only  they 

aCt"Therchaem'  a  strong  one  to  a  weak  one,"  said  the 

W^T„:  cToTsaT'Hnni,  for  instance  tothat  puny  sparrow, 
the  stutterine  Nebsecht,"  said  a  subaltern. 
"<  I  was  tanking  of  that  very  couple,"  said  the  account- 

^hr^othtr  eouples  were  selected,  at  first  with  some 
lauVhter    but   finally  with  serious   consideration  and 
Uarda's  father  was  sent  with  the  drivers  as  an  escort. 
U0^he  folfowing  morning  Pentaur  and  Nebsecht  were 

whh  coppe?,  ft  out  for  the  oasis  of  the  Amalek^es  accom- 
panied by  six  soldiers  and  the  son  of  the  paraschites,  to 
fetch  fuel  for  the  smelting  furnaces. 

They  rested  near  the  town  of  Alus,  and  then  wen  for- 
war d  again  between  bare  walls  of  ^J?"*^™  fiSa 
porphyry.  These  cliffs  rose  higher  and  higher  but  from 
Etofime,  above  the  ^^  J^^S^ 
ruffged  summit  of  some  giant  of  the  range,  Jh°«g|J' 
Wed  under  their  heavy  loads,  they  paid  small  heed  to  it 
The  sun  was  near  setting  when  they  reached  the  little 
Q^nrtnarv  of  the  ' £  Emerald-Hathor. 

A  few  gray  and  black  birds  here  flew  toward  them,  and 
Pentaur  gazed  at  them  with  delight. 

How  ling  he  had  missed  the  sight  of  a  bird  and  the 
sound  of  thlir  chirp  and  song  !    Nebsecht  said  :  There 
are  some  birds— we  must  be  near  water. 
And  there  stood  the  first  palm-tree  ! 
Now  the  murmur  of  a  brook  was  perceptible,  and  its 


38o 


UARDA. 


tiny  sound  touched  the  thirsty  souls  of  the  travelers  as 
rain  falls  on  dry  grass. 

On  the  left  bank  of  the  stream  an  encampment  of  Egyp- 
tian soldiers  formed  a  large  semicircle,  inclosing  three 
large  tents  made  of  costly  material  striped  with  blue  and 
white,  and  woven  with  gold  thread.  Nothing  was  to  be 
seen  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  tents,  but  when  the 
prisoners  had  passed  them,  and  the  drivers  were  ex- 
changing greetings  with  the  outposts,  a  girl  in  the  long 
robe  of  an  Egyptian  came  toward  them,  and  looked  at 
them. 

Pentaur  started  as  if  he  had  seen  a  ghost  ;  but  Nebsecht 
gave  expression  to  his  astonishment  in  a  loud  cry. 

At  the  same  instant  a  driver  laid  his  whip  across  their 
shoulders,  and  cried,  laughing  : 

'  •  You  may  hit  each  other  as  hard  as  you  like  with  words, 
but  not  with  your  hands." 

Then  he  turned  to  his  companions,  and  said  :  "  Did  you 
see  the  pretty  girl  there,  in  front  of  the  tent  ?  " 

"It  is  nothing  to  us  !  "  answered  the  man  he  addressed. 

"  She  belongs  to  the  princess'  train.  She  has  been  three 
weeks  here  on  a  visit  to  the  holy  shrine  of  Hathor." 

"She  must  have  committed  some  heavy  sin,"  replied 
the  other.  "If  she  were  one  of  us,  she  would  have  been 
set  to  sift  sand  in  the  diggings,  or  grind  colors,  and 
not  be  living  here  in  a  gilt  tent.  Where  is  our  red- 
beard  ?  " 

Uarda  s  father  had  lingered  a  little  behind  the  party, 
for  the  girl  had  signed  to  him,  and  exchanged  a  few  words 
with  him. 

"Have  you  still  an  eye  for  the  fair  ones?"  asked  the 
youngest  of  the  drivers  when  he  rejoined  the  gang. 

"She  is  a  waiting-maid  of  the  princess,"  replied  the 
soldier,  not  without  embarrassment.  "To-morrow  morn- 
ing we  are  to  carry  a  letter  from  her  to  the  scribe  of  the 
mines,  and  if  we  encamp  in  the  neighorhood  she  will  send 
us  some  wine  for  carrying  it." 

"  The  old  red-beard  scents  wine  as  a  fox  scents  a  goose. 
Let  us  encamp  here ;  one  never  knows  what  may  be  had 
among  the  Men tu,  and  the  superintendent  said  we  were  to 
encamp  outside  the  oasis.  Put  down  your  sacks,  men. 
Here  there  is  fresh  water,  and  perhaps  a  few  dates  and 


UARDA. 


381 


Bent-Anafs  M  shjhadlail.d  down  the  Nil! 

easy  marches  and  she  had  been  obuge    ,  fl  inhabitedby 

'thJ^prie^wScoVdecied  the  service  of  the  god- 
d^tafS&l  the  daughter  of  ™  »dh  respec 

fte  process  in  the  oasis  until  her  departure  was  author- 
^IaMcS.*  support  of  her  father  for 
her  brother  Eameri,  if  no  accident  had  occurred  to  htm, 

*£.  SSoToS  iaur?s  waT^rticulartv  Unpleasant 

;;Ss„sheCidbs.rr„Elih» «r  s£s 

-Man"  k  the  name  «*         by  *«  '^'".fJ.KSun'S'S. 
to  be  the  Manna  of  the  Bible, 


382 


UARDA. 


none  of  her  happiness  in  dreams,  but  all  in  work,  had 
bestowed  the  best  half  of  her  identity  on  a  vision.  Pen- 
taur's  image  took  a  more  and  more  vivid,  and  at  the  same 
time  nobler  and  loftier,  aspect  in  her  mind  ;  but  he  him- 
self had  died  for  her,  for  only  once  had  a  letter  reached 
them  from  Egypt,  and  that  was  from  Katuti  to  Nefert. 
After  telling  her  that  late  intelligence  established  the 
statement  that  her  husband  had  taken  a  prince  s  daughter, 
who  had  been  made  prisoner,  to  his  tent  as  his  share  of 
the  booty,  she  added  the  information  that  the  poet  Pen- 
taur,  who  had  been  condemned  to  forced  labor,  had  not 
reached  the  mountain  mines,  but,  as  was  supposed,  had 
perished  on  the  road. 

Nefert  still  held  to  her  immovable  belief  that  her  hus- 
band was  faithful  to  his  love  for  her,  and  the  magic  charm 
of  a  nature  made  beautiful  by  its  perfect  mastery  over  a 
deep  and  pure  passion  made  itself  felt  in  these  sad  and 
heavy  days. 

It  seemed  as  though  she  had  changed  parts  with  Bent- 
Anat  Always  hopeful,  every  day  she  foretold  help  from 
the  king  for  the  next ;  in  truth  she  was  ready  to  believe 
that,  w^hen  Mena  learned  from  Rameri  that  she  was  with 
the  princess,  he  himself  would  come  to  fetch  them  if  his 
duties  allowed  it.  In  her  hours  of  most  lively  expectation 
she  could  go  so  far  as  to  picture  how  the  party  in  the  tents 
would  be  divided,  and  who  would  bear  Bent-Anat  com- 
pany if  Mena  took  her  with  him  to  his  camp,  on  what 
spot  of  the  oasis  it  would  be  best  to  pitch  it,  and  much 
more  in  the  same  vein. 

Uarda  could  very  well  take  her  place  with  Bent-Anat, 
for  the  child  had  developed  and  improved  on  the  journey. 
The  rich  clothes  which  the  princess  had  given  her  became 
her  as  if  she  had  never  worn  any  others  ;  she  could  obey 
discreetly,  disappear  at  the  right  moment,  and,  when  she 
was  invited,  chatter  delightfully.  Her  laugh  was  silvery, 
and  nothing  consoled  Bent-Anat  so  much  as  to  hear  it. 

Her  songs  too  pleased  the  two  friends,  though  the  few 
that  she  knew  were  grave  and  sorrowful.  She  had  learned 
them  by  listening  to  old  Hekt,  who  often  used  to  play  on 
a  lute  in  the  dusk,  and  who,  when  she  perceived  that 
Uarda  caught  the  melodies,  had  pointed  out  her  faults, 
and  given  her  advice, 


UARDA. 


383 


"She  may  some  day  come  into  my  hands,"  thought  the 
witch,  "and  the  better  she  sings,  the  better  she  will  be 
paid." 

Bent-Anat  too,  tried  to  teach  Uarda,  but  learning  to 
read  was  not  easy  to  the  girl,  however  much  pains  she 
might  take.  Nevertheless,  the  princess  would  not  give  up 
the  spelling,  for  here,  at  the  foot  of  the  immense  sacred 
mountain  at  whose  summit  she  gazed  with  mixed  horror 
and  longing,  she  was  condemned  to  inactivity,  which 
weighed  the  more  heavily  on  her  in  proportion  as  those 
feelings  had  to  be  kept  to  herself  which  she  longed  to  es- 
cape from  in  work.  Uarda  knew  the  origin  of  her  mistress' 
deep  grief  and  revered  her  for  it,  as  if  it  were  something 
sacred.  Often  she  would  speak  of  Pentaur  and  of  his 
father,  and  always  in  such  a  manner  that  the  princess 
could'not  guess  that  she  knew  of  their  love. 

When  the  prisoners  were  passing  Bent-Anat's  tent,  she 
was  sitting  within  with  Nefert,  and  talking,  as  had  become 
habitual  in  the  hours  of  dusk,  df  her  father,  of  Mena, 
Rameri,  and  Pentaur. 

"  He  is  still  alive,"  asserted  Nefert.  "  My  mother,  you 
see,  says  that  no  one  knows  with  certainty  what  became 
of  him.  If  he  escaped,  he  beyond  a  doubt  tried  to  reach 
the  king's  camp,  and  when  we  get  there  you  will  find  him 
with  your  father." 

The  princess  looked  sadly  at  the  ground. 

Nefert  looked  affectionately  at  her,  and  asked  : 

"  Are  you  thinking  of  the  difference  in  rank  which  parts 
you  fronrthe  man  you  have  chosen  ?  " 

"The  man  to  whom  I  offer  my  hand,  I  put  in  the  rank 
of  a  prince,  "  said  Bent-Anat.  "  But  if  I  could  set  Pentaur 
on  a  throne,  as  master  of  the  world,  he  would  still  be 
greater  and  better  than  I." 

"  But  your  father?  "  asked  Nefert,  doubtfully. 

' <  He  is  my  friend,  he  will  listen  to  me  and  understand 
me.  He  shall  know  everything  when  I  see  him  ;  I  know 
his  noble  and  loving  heart." 

Both  were  silent  for  some  time  ;  then  Bent-Anat  spoke  : 

"Pray  have  lights  brought,  I  want  to  finish  my  weav- 
ing." 

Nefert  rose,  went  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  and  there  met 


3^4 


UARDA. 


Uarda  ;  she  seized  Nefert  s  hand,  and  silently  drew  h  r 
out  into  the  air. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  child?  you  are  trembling,"  Nefert 
exclaimed. 

"  My  father  is  here,"  answered  Uarda,  hastily.  "  He  is 
escorting  some  prisoners  from  the  mines  of  Mafkat. 
Among  them  there  are  two  chained  together,  and  one  of 
them — do  not  be  startled — one  of  them  is  the  poet  Pentaur. 
Stop,  for  God's  sake,  stop,  and  hear  me.  Twice  before  I 
have  seen  my  father  when  he  has  been  here  with  convicts. 
To-day  we  must  rescue  Pentaur  ;  but  the  princess  must 
know  nothing  of  it,  for  if  my  plan  fails  " 

"Child  !  girl  !  "  interrupted  Nefert,  eagerly.  "  How  can 
I  help  you  ?  " 

"Order  the  steward  to  give  the  drivers  of  the  gang  a 
skin  of  wine  in  the  name  of  the  princess,  and  out  of  Bent- 
Anat's  case  of  medicines  take  the  phial  which  contains 
the  sleeping  draught,  which,  in  spite  of  your  wish,  she 
will  not  take.  I  will  wait  here,  and  I  know  how  to  use 
it 

Nefert  immediately  found  the  steward,  and  ordered  him 
to  follow  Uarda  with  a  skin  of  wine.  Then  she  went 
back  to  the  princess'  tent,  and  opened  the  medicine-case. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  Bent-Anat. 

"A  remedy  for  palpitation,"  replied  Nefert ;  she  quietly 
took  the  flask  she  needed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  put  it 
into  Uarda's  hand. 

The  girl  asked  the  steward  to  open  the  wine-skin,  and 
let  her  taste  the  liquor.  While  she  pretended  to  drink  it, 
she  poured  the  whole  contents  of  the  phial  into  the  wine, 
and  then  let  Bent-Anat's  bountiful  present  be  carried  to  the 
thirsty  drivers. 

She  herself  went  toward  the  kitchen  tent,  and  found  a 
young  Amalekite  sitting  on  the  ground  with  the  prin- 
cess' servants.  He  sprang  up  as  soon  as  he  saw  the 
damsel. 

'  '  I  have  brought  four  fine  partridges,  "*  he  said,  ' '  which 

*  A  brook  springs  on  the  peak  called  by  the  Sinaitic  monks  Mt.  St. 
Katharine,  which  is  called  the  partridges'  spring,  and  of  which  many 
legends  are  told.  For  instance,  God  created  it  for  the  partridges  which 
accompanied  the  angels  who  carried  St.  Katharine  of  Alexandria  to  her 
tomb  on  Sinai. 


UARDA.  38S 

I  snared  myself,  and  I  have  brought  this  turquoise  for  you 
1-mv  brother  found  it  in  a  rock.  This  stone  brings  good 
luckf  and  is  good  for  the  eyes  ;  it  gives  victory  over  our 
enemies,  and  keeps  away  bad  dreams.  ,    ,  •  , 

"Thank  you  !  "  said  Uarda,  and  taking  the  boy  s  hand 
as  he  gave  her  the  sky-blue  stone,  she  led  him  forward  into 

A  "Listen,  Salich!"  she  said,  softly,  as  soon  as  she 
thought  they  were  far  enough  from  the  others.  You 
are  a  good  boy,  and  the  maids  told  me  that  you  said  I  was 
a  star  that  had  come  down  from  the  sky  to  become  a 
woman.  No  one  says  such  a  thing  as  that  of  any  one 
they  do  not  like  very  much  ;  and  I  know  you  like  me,  tor 
you  show  me  that  you  do  every  day  by  bringing  me  flow- 
ers when  you  carry  the  game  that  your  father  gets  to  the 
steward.  Tell  me,  will  you  do  me  and  the  princess  too  a 
very  great  service?  Yes  ?— and  willingly  ?  Yes?  I  knew 
vou  would  !  Now  listen.  A  friend  of  the  great  lady 
Bent-Anat,  who  will  come  here  to-night,  must  be  hidden  tor 
a  day,  perhaps  several  days,  from  his  pursuers.  Can  he 
or  rather  can  they,  for  there  will  probably  be  two  find 
shelter  and  protection  in  your  fathers  house,  which  lies 
high, up  there  on  the  sacred  mountain  ? " 

''Whoever  I  take  to  my  father,"  said  the  boy  will  be 
made  welcome  ;  and  we  divide  what  we  have,  first  for  our 
guests,  and  for  ourselves  after.  Where  are  the  strangers  ? 

"They  will  arrive  in  a  few  hours.  Will  you  wait  here 
till  the  moon  is  well  up  ?  " 

"Till  the  last  of  all  the  thousand  moons  that  vanish 
behind  the  hills  is  set."  ,  , 

"Well  then  wait  on  the  other  side  of  the  stream,  and 
conduct  'the  man  to  your  house,  who  repeats  my  name 
three  times.    You  know  my  name  ?  "  „ 

"  I  call  you  Silver-star,  but  the  others  call  you  Uarda. 

"Lead  the  strangers  to  your  hut,  and,  if  they  are  re- 
ceived there  by  your  father,  come  back  and  tell  me.  1 
will  watch  for  you  here  at  the  door  of  the  tent.  I  am  poor, 
alas  !  and  cannot  reward  you,  but  the  princess  will  thank 
your  father  as  a  princess  should.    Be  watchful,  balich  ! 

*The  turquoises  of  Serbal  are  finer  and  bluer  than  those  of  Wadi 
Maghara.    The  Arabs  to  this  day  believe  in  the  happy  influences  of  the 

turquoise. 

25 


386 


UARDA. 


The  girl  vanished,  and  went  to  the  drivers  of  the  gang 
of  prisoners,  wished  them  a  merry  and  pleasant  evening, 
then  hastened  back  to  Bent-Anat,  who  anxiously  stroked 
her  abundant  hair,  and  asked  her  why  she  was  so  pale. 

"  Lie  down,"  said  the  princess,  kindly,  "  you  are  fever- 
ish. Only  look,  Nefert,  I  can  see  the  blood  coursing 
through  the  blue  veins  in  her  forehead. " 

Meanwhile  the  drivers  drank,  praised  the  royal  wine, 
and  the  lucky  day  on  which  they  drank  it  ;  and  when 
Uarda's  father  suggested  that  the  prisoners  too  should 
have  a  mouthful,  one  of  his  fellow-soldiers  cried  :  "Ay,  let 
the  poor  beasts  be  jolly  for  once." 

The  red-beard  filled  a  large  beaker,  and  offered  it  first 
to  a  forger  and  his  fettered  companion,  then  he  approached 
Pentaur,  and  whispered  : 

"  Do  not  drink  any — keep  away  !  " 

As  he  was  going  to  warn  the  physican  too,  one  of  his 
companions  came  between  them,  and  offering  his  tankard 
to  Nebsecht,  said  : 

"  Here,  mumbler,  drink  ;  see  him  pull !     His  stuttering 
mouth  is  spry  enough  for  drinking  !  " 
# 

I  regard  the  peak  now  known  as  Serbal  as  the  Sinai  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  not  that  called  Sinai  by  the  monks.  The  stream  or  torrent  by 
which  the  sanctuary  of  the  Mafkat-Hathor  stood  flows  down  the  valley 
of  Feiran.  The  princess'  journey  led  her  across  the  desert  from  Qeft 
on  the  Nile  to  the  seaport  subsequently  named  Berenike,  thence  by  ship 
to  the  fishing  town  of  Pharan,  and  through  the  mountain  range  to  the 
valley  into  which  that  of  Feiran  opens,  and  which  further  on  forks,  and 
encloses  the  hill  of  Meharrat.  I  have  fully  discussed  the  geography, 
history,  and  sacred  places  of  the  Sinaitic  peninsula  in  my  work  entitled, 
"  Durch  Gosen  zum  Sinai."  I  have  described  the  scene  of  this  part  of 
my  story  from  life,  and  none  who  have  once  seen  that  wondrous  mount- 
ain and  desert  range  can  ever  forget  it.  Pentaur's  march  was  from  the 
present  Abu  Selimeh,  on  the  Sinaitic  coast  of  the  Red  Sea — where  the 
ancient  road  from  the  mines  seems  to  have  come  down  to  the  shore — 
through  the  valley  still  called  Baba,  as  it  was  in  the  time  of  the  Pharaohs 
across  the  mountain  pass  of  Naqb  el  Buddrah,  where  the  old  path  was 
some  years  since  retraced  and  restored  by  Major  Macdonald.  The 
mines  which  were  discovered  by  Palmer  and  Wilson  lay  in  the  little  Wadi 
Umm  Themaim  ;  the  larger  valley,  where  the  factory  was  situated,  of 
which  the  remains  still  exist,  is  the  Wadi  Maghara.  Raphidim  is  the 
oasis  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Horeb  southward  from  the  mines.  Alus  is 
mentioned  by  Numeri. 

The  Arabs  of  the  Sinaitic  peninsula  still  prepare  large  quantities 
charcoal  from  the  Mimosa  Sajal,  and  sell  it  at  Cairo. 

It  may  be  added  that  the  name  of  Abocharabos  is  genuine,  for  Proco- 


UARDA.  3g7 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

The  hours  passed  gayly  with  the  drinkers,  then  thev 
grew  more  and  more  sleepy.  '  y 

«WU  *iu  ^°°n  WaS  hi^h'  in  the  heavens  before  they 
&  Wlt}\.the  exception  of  Kaschta  and  Pentaur.  7 
The  soldier  rose  softly,  listened  to  the  breathing  of  his 

rib?  whtTV  J\aPProf  <Thed  th«  Poet,  unfastened  the 
ring  which  fettered  his  ankle  to  that  of  Nebsecht,  and 
endeavored  to  wake  the  physician,  but  in  vain. 

Follow  me  !  "  cried  he  to  the  poet ;  he  took  Nebsecht 

ZlrvOU}delS'?ndyent  tOWard  the  sPot  "ear  the  stream 
which  Uarda  had  indicated.  Three  times  he  called  his 
daughters  name  the  young  Amalekite  appeared,  and  the 
2Z«S&£g*l'S   "F°IIOW  thisPmPan,Iwill  take* 

wmllS  Mm!-*  h'im'"  SaId  Pentaun    " PerhaPs  ^er 

and  bTtfcff d  hf  %  ^  the  hTO-°k'  Which  haIf  woke  him> 
and  by  the  help  of  his  companions,  who  now  pushed  and 

now  dragged  him,  he   staggered  and  stumbled  up  the 

rugged  mountain  path,  and  before  midnight  they  reached 

their  destination,  the  hut  of  the  Amalekite.  7 

told  him  whntrT  ^u81^  but,hiS  SOn  aroused  him> 
told  him  what  Uarda  had  ordered  and  promised 

But  no  promises  were  needed  to  incite  the  worthy 
mountaineer  to  hospitality.  He  received  the  poet  whh 
genuine  friendliness,  laid  the  sleeping  leech  on  a  mat  pre- 
pared a  couch  for  Pentaur  of  leaves  and  skins,  called  his 

giUvl?oyjutiniibthenraaigOS  ^  haS  COrreCted  to  Abocharabos) 

ints  rf fiSt^cSS'SSS.^ tilf  ^ of  Sinai-  •  The  inhabit- 

Sebeans,  that  b  iSSSSKJStSSST  wTlSm^Sff 

JS&^JS^SS^  The  earliest  of 


388 


UARDA. 


daughter  to  wash  his  feet,  and  offered  him  his  own 
holiday  garment  in  the  place  of  the  rags  that  covered  his 
body. 

Pentaur  stretched  himself  out  on  the  humble  couch, 
which  to  him  seemed  softer  than  the  silken  bed  of  a  queen, 
but  on  which  nevertheless  he  could  not  sleep,  for  the 
thoughts  and  fancies  that  filled  his  heart  were  too  over- 
powering and  bewildering. 

The  stars  still  sparkled  in  the  heavens  when  he  sprang 
from  his  bed  of  skins,  lifted  Nebsecht  on  to  it,  and  rushed 
out  into  the  open  air.  A  fresh  mountain  spring  flowed 
close  to  the  hunter's  hut.  He  went  to  it,  and  bathed  his 
face  in  the  ice-cold  water,  and  let  it  flow  over  his  body  and 
limbs.  He  felt  as  if  he  must  cleanse  himself  to  his  very 
soul,  not  only  from  the  dust  of  many  weeks,  but  from  the 
rebellion  and  despondency,  the  ignominy  and  bitterness, 
and  the  contact  with  vice  and  degradation. 

When  at  last  he  left  the  spring,  and  returned  to  the  little 
house,  he  felt  clean  and  fresh  as  on  the  morning  of  a  feast- 
day  at  the  temple  of  Seti,  when  he  had  bathed  and  dressed 
himself  in  robes  of  snow-white  linen.  He  took  the  hunt- 
er's holiday  dress,  put  it  on,  and  went  out  of  doors  again. 

The  enormous  masses  of  rock  lay  dimly  before  him,  like 
storm-clouds,  and  over  his  head  spread  the  blue  heavens 
with  their  thousand  stars. 

The  soothing  sense  of  freedom  and  purity  raised  his 
soul,  and  the  air  that  he  breathed  was  so  fresh  and  light 
that  he  sprang  up  the  path  to  the  summit  of"  the  peak  as 
if  he  were  borne  on  wings  or  carried  by  invisible  hands. 

A  mountain  goat  which  met  him,  turned  from  him,  and 
fled  bleating,  with  his  mate,  to  a  steep  peak  of  rock,  but 
Pentaur  said  to  the  frightened  beasts  : 

(<  I  shall  do  nothing  to  you — not  I." 

He  paused  on  a  little  plateau  at  the  foot  of  the  jagged 
granite  peak  of  the  mountain.  Here  again  he  heard  the 
murmur  of  a  spring,  the  grass  under  his  feet  was  damp, 
and  covered  with  a  film  of  ice,  in  which  were  mirrored  the 
stars,  now  gradually  fading.  He  looked  up  at  the  lights 
in  the  sky,  those  never-tarrying,  and  yet  motionless  wan- 
derers— away,  to  the  mountain  heights  around  him — down, 
into  the  gorge  below — and  far  off,  into  the  distance. 

The  dusk  slowly  grew  into  light,  the  mysterious  forms  of 


UARDA. 


389 


the  mountain-chain  took  shape  and  stood  up  with  their 
shining  points,  the  light  clouds  were  swept  away  like 
smoke.  Thin  vapors  rose  from  the  oasis  and  the  other 
valleys  at  his  feet,  at  first  in  heavy  masses,  then  they 
parted  and  were  wafted,  as  if  in  sport,  above  and  beyond 
him  to  the  sky.  Far  below  him  soared  a  large  eagle,  the 
only  living  creature  far  or  near. 

A  solemn  and  utter  silence  surrounded  him,  and  when 
the  eagle  swooped  down  and  vanished  from  his  sight,  and 
the  mist  rolled  lower  into  the  valley,  he  felt  that  here, 
alone,  he  was  high  above  all  other  living  beings,  and 
standing  nearer  to  the  divinity. 

He  drew  his  breath  fully  and  deeply,  he  felt  as  he  had 
felt  in  the  first  hours  after  his  initiation,  when  for  the  first 
time  he  was  admitted  to  the  holy  of  holies— and  yet  quite 
different. 

Instead  of  the  atmosphere  loaded  with  incense,  he 
breathed  a  light  pure  air  ;  and  the  deep  stillness  of  the 
mountain  solitude  possessed  his  soul  more  strongly  than 
the  chant  of  the  priests. 

Here,  it  seemed  to  him,  that  the  Divine  Being  would 
hear  the  lightest  murmur  of  his  lips,  though  indeed  his 
heart  was  so  full  of  gratitude  and  devotion  that  his  im- 
pulse was  to  give  expression  to  his  mighty  flow  of  feelings 
in  jubilant  song.  But  his  tongue  seemed  tied  ;  he  knelt 
down  in  silence,  t6  pray  and  to  praise. 

Then  he  looked  at  the  panorama  around  him. 

Where  was  the  east  which  in  Egypt  was  clearly  defined 
by  the  long  Nile  range  ?  Down  there  where  it  was  begin- 
ning to  be  light  over  the  oasis.  To  his  right  hand  lay  the 
south,  the  sacred  birthplace  of  the  Nile,  the  home  of  the 
gods  of  the  cataracts  ;  but  here  flowed  no  mighty  stream, 
and  where  was  there  a  shrine  for  the  visible  manifestation 
of  Osiris  and  Isis  ;  of  Horus,  born  of  a  lotus  flower  in  a 
thicket  of  papyrus  ;  of  Rennut,  the  goddess  of  blessings, 
and  of  Zefa  ?  To  which  of  them  could  he  here  lift  his  hand 
in  prayer  ? 

A  faint  breeze  swept  by,  the  mist  vanished  like  a  rest- 
less shade  at  the  word  of  the  exorcist,  the  many-pointed 
crown  of  Sinai  stood  out  in  sharp  relief,  and  below  them 
the  winding  valleys,  and  the  dark-colored  rippling  surface 
pf  the  lake,  became  distinctly  visible. 


390  UARDA. 


All  was  silent,  all  untouched  by  the  hand  of  man  yet 
harmonized  to  one  great  and  glorious  whole  subject  to 
all  the  laws,  of  the  universe,  pervaded  and  rilled  by  the 

Divinity.  .  '        ,  .    „     ,     .  .  . 

He  would  fain  have  raised  his  hand  in  thanksgiving  to 
Apheru  "  the  guide  on  the  way  : "  but  he  dared  not  ;  and 
how  infinitely  small  did  the  gods  now  seem  to  him,  the 
eods  he  had  so  often  glorified  to  the  multitude  in  inspired 
words,  the  gods  that  had  no  meaning,  no  dwelling-place, 
no  dominion  but  by  the  Nile. 

"  To  ye  "  he  murmured,  "  I  cannot  pray  !  Here  where 
my  eye  can  pierce  the  distance,  as  if  I  myself  were  a  god 
-here  I  feel  the  presence  of  the  One,  here  He  is  near  me 
and  with  me-I  will  call  upon  Him  and  praise  Him  ! 

And  throwing  up  his  arms  he  cried  aloud:  Thou  only 
One  '  Thou  only  One  !  Thou  only  One  !  He  said  no 
more  ;  but  a  tide  of  song  welled  up  in  his  breast  as  he 
spoke— a  flood  of  thankfulness  and  praise. 

When  he  rose  from  his  knees,  a  man  was  standing  by 
him  •  his  eyes  were  piercing  and  his  tall  figure  had  the 
disrni'ty  of  a  king,  in  spite  of  his  herdsman's  dress. 

''It  is  well  for  you!"  said  the  stranger,  in  deep  slow 
accents.     "  You  seek  the  true  God. " 

Pentaur  looked  steadily  into  the  face  of  the  bearded  man 

before  him.  ^  , 

' '  I  know  you  now, "  he  said.  ' '  You  are  Mesu. *  I  was 
but  a  boy  when  you  left  the  temple  of  Seti,  but  your  feat- 
ures are  stamped  on  my  soul.  Amen,  initiated  me,  as 
well  as  you,  into  the  knowledge  of  the  One  God.  . 

"He  knows  Him  not,"  answered  the  other,  looking 
thoughtfully  to  the  eastern  horizon,  which  every  moment 

grThebhfavens  glowed  with  purple,  and  the  granite  peaks, 
each  sheathed  in  a  film  of  ice,  sparkled  and  shone  like 
dark  diamonds  that  had  been  dipped  in  light. 

The  day-star  rose,  and  Pentaur  turned  to  it,  and  pros- 
trated himself  as  his  custom  was.  When  he  rose  Mesu 
also  was  kneeling  on  the  earth,  but  his  back  was  turned 
to  the  sun.  ...  „m„ 

When  he  had  ended  his  prayers  Pentaur  said  :  Why 


*  Moses. 


UARDA.  3<j! 

do  you  turn  your  back  on  the  manifestation  of  the  Sun- 
god?  We  were  taught  to  look  toward  him  when  he  ap- 
proaches. " 

"  Because  I,"  said  his  grave  companion,  "pray  to 
another  God  than  yours.  The  sun  and  stars  are  but  as 
toys  in  His  hand,  the  earth  is  His  footstool,  the  storm  is 
His  breath,  and  the  sea  is  in  His  sight  as  the  drops  on  the 
grass. " 

"  Teach  me  to  know  the  Mighty  One  whom  you  wor- 
ship !  "  exclaimed  Pentaur. 

"Seek  Him,"  said  Mesu,  <f  and  you  will  find  Him  ;  for 
you  have  passed  through  misery  and  suffering,  and  on 
this  spot  on  such  a  morning  as  this  was  He  revealed  to 
me. " 

The  stranger  turned  away  and  disappeared  behind  a 
rock  from  the  inquiring  gaze  of  Pentaur,  who  fixed  his  eyes 
on  the  distance. 

Then  he  thoughtfully  descended  the  valley  and  went 
toward  the  hut  of  the  hunter.  He  stayed  his  steps  when 
he  heard  men's  voices,  but  the  rocks  hid  the  speakers 
from  his  sight. 

Presently  he  saw  the  party  approaching  ;  the  son  of  his 
host,  a  man  in  Egyptian  dress,  a  lady  of  tall  stature,  near 
whom  a  girl  tripped  lightly,  and  another  carried  in  a  litter 
by  slaves. 

Pentaurs  heart  beat  wildly,  for  he  recognized  Bent-Anat 
and  her  companions.  They  disappeared  by  the  hunters 
cottage,  but  he  stood  still,  breathing  painfully,  spell-bound 
to  the  cliff  by  which  he  stood— a  long,  long  time— and  did 
not  stir. 

He  did  not  hear  a  light  step  that  came  near  to  him  and 
died  away  again,  he  did  not  feel  that  the  sun  began  to  cast 
fierce  beams  on  him,  and  on  the  porphyry  cliff  behind  him 
he  did  not  see  a  woman  now  coming  quickly  toward  him; 
but,  like  a  deaf  man  who  has  suddenly  acquired  the  sense 
of  hearing,  he  started  when  he  heard  his  name  spoken— by 
whose  lips  ? 

"Pentaur  !  "  she  said  again  ;  the  poet  opened  his  arms 
and  Bent-Anat  fell  upon  his  breast  ;  and  he  held  her  to 
him,  clasped,  as  though  he  must  hold  her  there  and  nevei 
part  from  her  all  his  life  long, 


392  UARDA. 

Meanwhile  the  princess'  companions  were  resting  by 
the  hunters  little  house. 

"She  fle\y  into  his  arms- 1  saw  it,  said  Uarda. 
"Never  shall*  I  forget  it.  It  was  as  if  the  bright  lake  there 
had  risen  up  to  embrace  the  mountain/'  ,  *    _  _ 

'•Where  do  you  find  such  fancies,  child  ?    cried  Nefert. 
•  •  In  my  heart— deep  in  my  heart !  "  cried  Uarda.     "I  am 
so  unspeakably  happy."  '  • 

"  You  saved  him  and  rewarded  him  for  his  goodness  ; 
you  may  well  be  happy." 

••  It  is  not  only  that,"  said  Uarda.     "  I  was  in  despair, 
and  now  I  see  that  the  gods  are  righteous  and  loving." 
Menas  wife  nodded  to  her,  and  said  with  a  sigh  : 
••They  are  both  happy  !"  . 
••And  they  deserve  to  be!     exclaimed  Uarda.  l 
fancy  the  goddess  of  Truth  is  like  Bent-Anat,  and  there  is 
not  another  man  in  Egypt  like  Pentaur."  .  j 

Nefert  was  silent  for  a  while  ;  then  she  asked  sottly  : 
"  Did  you  ever  see  Mena  ?  " 

••How  should  I?"  replied  the  girl.  "Wait  a  little 
while  and  your  turn  will  come.  I  believe  that  to-day  1 
can  read  the  future  like  a  prophetess.  But  let  us  see  if 
Nebsecht  lies  there,  and  is  still  asleep.^  The  draught  I  put 
into  the  wine  must  have  been  strong."  . 

••It  was  "  answered  Nefert,  following  her  into  the  hut. 
The  physician  was  still  lying  on  the  bed,  and  sleeping 
with  his  mouth  wide  open.  #  Uarda  knelt  down  by  his  side, 
looked  in  his  face,  and  said  : 

••He  is  clever  and  knows  everything,  but  how  silly  ne 
looks  now  !    I  will  wake  him."  m 

She  pulled  a  blade  of  grass  out  of  the  heap  on  which  he 
was  lying;,  and  saucily  tickled  his  nose. 

Nebsecht  raised  himself,  sneezed,  but  fell  back  asleep 
asain  ;  Uarda  laughed  out  with  her  clear,  silvery  tones. 
Then  she  blushed—  " That  is  not  right,"  she  said,  for  he 
is  good  and  generous."  ,    « A         ,.  A 

She  took  the  sleeper's  hand,  pressed  it  to  her  hps,  and 
wiped  the  drops  from  his  brow.    Then  he  awoke,  opened 
his  eyes,  and  murmured,  half  in  a  dream  still  : 
"Uarda— sweet  Uarda." 

The  girl  started  up  and  fled,  and  Nefert  followed  her. 
When  Nebsecht  at  last  got  upon  his  feet  and  looked 


UARDA.  393 

round  him,  he  found  himself  alone  in  a  strange  house. 
He  went  out  of  doors,  where  he  found  Bent-Anat's  little 
train  anxiously  discussing  things  past  and  to  come. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  oasis  had  for  centuries  been  sub- 
ject to  the  Pharaohs,  and  paid  them  tribute  ;  and  amono- 
the  rights  granted  to  them  in  return,  no  Egyptian  soldier 
might  cross  their  border  and  territory  without  their  per- 
mission. 

The  Ethiopians  had  therefore  pitched  Bent-Anat's  tents 
and  their  own  camp  outside  these  limits  ;  but  various  trans- 
actions soon  took  place  between  the  idle  warriors  and  the 
Amalekites,  which  now  and  then  led  to  quarrels,  and 
which  one  evening  threatened  serious  consequences,  when 
some  drunken  soldiers  had  annoyed  the  Amalekite  women 
while  they  were  drawing  water. 

This  morning  early  one  of  the  drivers  on  awaking  had 
missed  Pentaur  and  Nebsecht,  and  he  aroused  his  com- 
rades, who  had  been  rejoined  by  Uarda  s  father.  The  en- 
raged guard  of  the  gang  of  prisoners  hastened  to  the  com- 
mandant of  the  Ethiopians,  and  informed  him  that  two 
of  his  prisoners  had  escaped,  and  were  no  doubt  being  kept 
in  concealment  by  the  Amalekites. 

The  Amalekites  met  the  requisition  to  surrender  the 
fugitives,  of  whom  they  knew  nothing,  with  words  of 
mockery,  which  so  enraged  the  officer  that  he  determined 
to  search  the  oasis  throughout  by  force,  and  when  he  found 
his  emissaries  treated  with  scorn  he  advanced  with  the 
larger  part  of  his  troops  on  to  the  free  territory  of  the 
Amalekites. 

The  sons  of  the  desert  flew  to  arms  ;  they  retired  before 
the  close  order  of  the  Egyptian  troops,  who  followed  them, 
confident  of  victory,  to  a  point  where  the  valley  widens 
and  divides  on  each  side  of  a  rocky  hill.  Behind  this  the 
larger  part  of  the  Amalekite  forces  were  lying  in  ambush, 
and  as  soon  as  the  unsuspicious  Ethiopians  had  marched 


394 


UARDA. 


past  the  hill,  they  threw  themselves  on  the  rear  of  the 
astonished  invaders,  while  those  in  front  turned  upon 
them,  and  flung  lances  and  arrows  at  the  soldiers,  of  whom 
very  few  escaped. 

Among  them,  however,  was  the  commanding  officer, 
who,  foaming  with  rage  and  only  slightly  wounded,  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  remainder  of  Bent-Anat's  body- 
guard, ordered  the  escort  of  prisoners  also  to  follow  him, 
and  once  more  advanced  into  the  oasis. 

That  the  princess  might  escape  him  had  never  for  an 
instant  occurred  to  him,  but  as  soon  as  the  last  of  her 
keepers  had  disappeared,  Bent-Anat  explained  to  the 
chamberlain  and  her  companions  that  now  or  never  was 
the  moment  to  fly. 

All  her  people  were  devoted  to  her ;  they  loaded  them- 
selves with  the  most  necessary  things  for  daily  use,  took 
the  litters  and  beasts  of  burden  with  them,  and  while  the 
battle  was  raging  in  the  valley,  Salich  guided  them  up  the 
heights  of  Sinai  to  his  fathers  house. 

It  was  on  the  way  thither  that  Uarda  had  prepared  the 
princess  for  the  meeting  she  might  expect  at  the  hunters 
cottage,  and  we  have  seen  how  and  where  the  princess 
found  the  poet. 

Hand  in  hand  they  wrandered  together  along  the  mount- 
ain path  till  they  came  to  a  spot  shaded  by  a  projection 
of  the  rock  ;  Pentaur  pulled  some  moss  to  make  a  seat, 
they  reclined  on  it  side  by  side,  and  there  opened  their 
hearts,  and  told  each  other  of  their  love  and  of  their  suf- 
ferings, their  wanderings  and  escapes. 

At  noonday  the  hunter  s  daughter  came  to  offer  them  a 
pitcher  full  of  goat's  milk,  and  Bent-Anat  filled  the  gourd 
again  and  again  for  the  man  she  loved;  and  waiting  upon 
him  thus,  her  heart  overflowed  with  pride,  and  with  the 
humility  of  love  that  made  her  wish  for  no  greater  happi- 
ness than  to  spend  her  life's  blood  for  him. 

Hitherto  they  had  been  so  absorbed  in  the  present  and 
the  past  that  they  had  not  given  a  thought  to  the  future, 
and  while  they  repeated  a  hundred  times  what  each  had 
long  since  known,  and  yet  could  never  tire  of  hearing, 
they  forgot  the  immediate  danger  which  was  hanging  over 
them. 

After  their  humble  meal,  the  surging  flood  of  feeling 


UARDA. 


395 


which  ever  since  his  morning- devotions  had  overwhelmed 
the  poet's  soul  grew  calmer ;  he  had  felt  as  if  borne 
through  the  air,  but  now  he  set  foot,  so  to  speak,  on  earth 
again,  and  seriously  considered  with  Bent-Anat  what  steps 
they  must  take  in  the  immediate  future. 

The  light  of  joy,  which  beamed  in  their  eyes,  was  little 
in  accordance  with  the  grave  consultation  they  held,  as 
hand  in  hand  they  descended  to  the  hut  of  their  humble  host. 

The  hunter,  guided  by  his  daughter,  met  them  half- 
wray,  and  with  him  a  tall  and  dignified  man  in  the  full 
armor  of  a  chief  of  the  Amalekites. 

Both  bowed  and  kissed  the  earth  before  Bent-Anat  and 
Pentaur.  They  had  heard  that  the  princess  was  detained 
in  the  oasis  by  force  by  the  Ethiopian  troops,  and  the 
desert-prince,  Abocharabos,  now  informed  them,  not 
without  pride,  that  the  Ethiopian  soldiers,  all  but  a  few 
who  were  his  prisoners,  had  been  exterminated  by  his 
people  ;  at  the  same  time  he  assured  Pentaar,  whom  he 
supposed  to  be  a  son  of  the  king,  and  Bent-Anat,  that  he 
and  his  were  entirely  devoted  to  the  Pharaoh  Rameses, 
who  had  always  respected  their  rights. 

"They  are  accustomed,"  he  added,  "to  fight  against 
the  cowardly  dogs  of  Kush  ;  but  we  are  men,  and  we  can 
fight  like  the  lions  of  our  wilds.  If  we  are  outnumbered 
we  hide  like  the  goats  in  clefts  of  the  rocks." 

Bent-Anat,  who  was  pleased  with  the  daring  man,  his 
flashing  eyes,  his  aquiline  nose,  and  his  brown  face  which 
bore  the  mark  of  a  bloody  sword-cut,  promised  him  to 
commend  him  and  his  people  to  her  fathers  favor,  and 
told  him  of  her  desire  to  proceed  as  soon  as  possible  to 
the  king's  camp  under  the  protection  of  Pentaur,  her 
future  husband. 

The  mountain  chief  had  gazed  attentively  at  Pentaur 
and  at  Bent-Anat  while  she  spoke  ;  then  he  said  : 

"Thou,  princess,  art  like  the  moon,  and  thy  companion 
is  like  the  Sun-god  Dusare.  Besides  Abocharabos,"  and 
he  struck  his  breast,  "and  his  wife,  I  know  no  pair  that 
are  like  you  two.  I  myself  will  conduct  you  to  Hebron 
with  some  of  my  best  men  of  war.  But  haste  will  be 
necessary,  for  I  must  be  back  before  the  traitor  who  now 
rules  over  Mizraim,*  and  who  persecutes  you,  can  send 
*The  Semitic  name  for  Egypt. 


396 


UARDA. 


fresh  forces  against  us.  Now  you  can  go  down  again  to 
the  tents,  not  a  hen  is  missing.  To-morrow  before  day- 
break we  will  be  off." 

At  the  door  of  the  hut  Pentaur  was  greeted  by  the  prin- 
cess' companions. 

The  chamberlain  looked  at  him  not  without  anxious  mis- 
giving. 

The  king,  when  he  departed,  had,  it  is  true,  given  him 
orders  to  obey  Bent-Anat  in  every  particular,  as  if  she 
were  the  queen  herself;  but  her  choice  of  such  a  husband 
was  a  thing  unheard  of,  and  how  would  the  king  take  it  ? 

Nefert  rejoiced  in  the  splendid  person  of  the  poet,  and 
frequently  repeated  that  he  was  as  like  her  dead  uncle 
— the  father  of  Paaker,  the  chief  pioneer — as  if  he  were 
his  younger  brother. 

Uarda  never  wearied  of  contemplating  her  beloved 
princess.  She  no  longer  looked  upon  her  as  a  being  of  a 
higher  order  ;  but  the  happiness  of  the  noble  pair  seemed 
to  her  an  embodied  omen  of  happiness  for  Nefert's  love — 
perhaps  too  for  her  own. 

Nebsecht  kept  modestly  in  the  background.  The  head- 
ache, from  which  he  had  long  been  suffering,  had  disap- 
peared in  the  fresh  mountain  air.  When  Pentaur  offered 
him  his  hand  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Here  is  an  end  to  all  my  jokes  and  abuse  !  A  strange 
thing  is  this  fate  of  men.  Henceforth  I  shall  always  have 
the  worst  of  it  in  any  dispute  with  you,  for  all  the  dis- 
cords of  your  life  have  been  very  prettily  resolved  by  the 
great  master  of  harmony,  to  whom  you  pray/' 

"  You  speak  almost  as  if  you  were  sorry  ;  but  everything 
will  turn  out  happily  for  you  too." 

"Hardly!"  replied  the  surgeon,  "for  now  I  see  it 
clearly.  Every  man  is  a  separate  instrument,  formed 
even  before  his  birth,  in  an  occult  workshop,  of  good  or 
bad  wood,  skillfully  or  unskillfully  made,  of  this  shape  or 
the  other;  everything  in  his  life,  no  matter  what  we  call  it, 
plays  upon  him,  and  the  instrument  sounds  for  good  or 
evil  as  it  is  well  or  ill  made.  You  are  an  ^Eolian  harp — 
the  sound  is  delightful,  whatever  breath  of  fate  may  touch 
it ;  I  am  a  weather-cock — I  turn  whichever  way  the  wind 
blows,  and  try  to  point  right,  but  at  the  same  time  I  creak, 
so  that  it  hurts  my  own  ears  and  those  of  other  people. 


UARDA. 


3. 


I  am  content  if  now  and  then  a  steersman  may  set  hL 
sails  rightly  by  my  indication  ;  though  after  all  it  is  all  the 
same  to  me.  I  will  turn  round  and  round,  whether  otl"  \s 
look  at  me  or  no.    What  does  it  signify  ?  " 

When  Pentaur  and  the  princess  took  leave  of  the  hunt 
with  many  gifts  the  sun  was  sinking,  and  the  toothe 
peaks  of  Sinai  glowed  like  rubies,  through  which  shon 
the  glow  of  half  a  world  on  fire. 

The  journey  to  the  royal  camp  was  begun  the  nex 
morning.     Abocharabos,  the  Amalekite   chief,  accom- 
panied the  caravan,  to  which  Uarda's  father  also  attached 
himself ;  he  had  been  taken  prisoner  in  the  struggle  with 
the  natives,  but  at  Bent-Anat's  request  was  set  at  liberty. 

At  their  first  halting-place  he  was  commanded  to  explain 
how  he  had  succeeded  in  having  Pentaur  taken  to  the 
mines,  instead  of  to  the  quarries  of  Chennu. 

"I knew,"  said  the  soldier,  in  his  homely  way,  ' 'from 
Uarda  where  this  man,  who  had  risked  his  life  for  us  poor 
folks,  was  to  be  taken,  and  I  said  to  myself— I  must  save 
him. '  But  thinking  is  not  my  trade,  and  I  never  can  lay  a 
plot.  It  would  very  likely  have  come  to  some  violent  act, 
that  would  have  ended  badly,  if  I  had  not  had  a  hint  from 
another  person,  even  before  Uarda  told  me  of  what 
threatened  Pentaur.    This  is  how  it  was  : 

"I  was  to  convoy  the  prisoners,  who  were  condemned 
to  work  in  the  Mafkat  mines,  across  the  river  to  the  place 
they  start  from.  In  the  harbor  of  Thebes,  on  the#  other 
side,  the  poor  wretches  were  to  take  leave  of  their  friends  ; 
I  have  seen  it  a  hundred  times,  and  I  never  can  get  used 
to  it,  and  yet  one  can  get  hardened  to  most  things  ! 
Their  loud  cries  and  wild  howls  are  not  the  worst— those 
that  scream  the  most  I  have  always  found  are  the  first  to 
get  used  to  their  fate  ;  but  the  pale  ones,  whose  lips  turn 
white,  and  whose  teeth  chatter  as  if  they  were  freezing, 
and  whose  eyes  stare  out  into  vacancy  without  any  tears — 
those  go  to  my  heart.  There  was  all  the  usual  misery, 
both  noisy  and  silent  But  the  man  I  was  most  sorry 
for  was  one  I  had  known  for  a  long  time  ;  his  name  was 
Huni,  and  he  belonged  to  the  temple  of  Amon,  where  he 
held  the  place  of  overseer  of  the  attendants  on  the 
sacred  goat.    I  had  often  met  him  when  I  was  on  duty  to 


UARDA. 


98 

watch  the  laborers  who  were  completing  the  great  pillared 
hall,   and  he  was  respected  by  every  one,   and  never 
f    ed  in  his  duty.    Once,  however,  he  had  neglected  it; 
t    vVas  that  very  night  which  you  all  will  remember  when 
e  wolves  broke  into  the  temple,  and  tore  the  rams,  and 
le  sacred  heart  was  laid  in  the  breast  of  the  prophet 
lul    Some  one,  of  course,   must  be  punished,   and  it 
'ell  on  poor  Huni,  who  for  his  carelessness  was  condemned 
to  forced  labor  in  the  mines  of  Mafkat.    His  successor 
will  keep  a  sharp  lookout  !    No  one  came  to  see  him  off, 
thouo-h  I  knew  he  had  a  wife  and  several  children.  He 
was  as  pale  as  this  cloth,  and  was  one  of  the  sort  whose 
grief  eats  into  their  heart.    I  went  up  to  him,  and  asked 
him  why  no  one  came  with  him.    He  had  taken  leave  of 
them  at  home,  he  answered,  that  his  children  might  not 
see  him  mixed  up  with  forgers  and  murderers.  Eight 
poor  little  brats  were   left   unprovided   for  with  their 
mother,  and  a  little  while  before  a  fire  had  destroyed 
everything  they  possessed.    There  was  not  a  crumb  to 
stop  their  little  squalling  mouths.    He  did  not  tell  me  all 
this  straight  out ;  a  word  fell  from  him  now  and  then,  like 
dates  out  of  a  torn  sack.    I  picked  it  up  bit  by  bit  and 
when  he  saw  I  felt  for  him  he  grew  fierce  and  said  :  6  They 
may  send  me  to  the  gold  mines  or  cut  me  to  pieces,  as  far 
as  I  am  concerned,  but  that  the  little  ones  should  starve 
that— that:  and  he  struck  his  forehead.    Then  I  left  him 
to  say  good-bye  to  Uarda,  and  on  the  way  I  kept  repeating 
to  myself  1  that— that;  and  saw  before  me  the  man  and  his 
ei^ht  brats.    If  I  were  rich,  thought  I,  there  is  a  man  I 
would  help.    When  I  got  to  the  little  one  there,  she  told 
me  how  much  money  the  leech  Nebsecht  had  given  her 
and  offered  to  give  it  me  to  save  Pentaur ;  then  it  passed 
through  my  mind— that  may  go  to  Huni's  children,  and  in 
return  he  will  let  himself  be  shipped  off  to  Ethiopia.  1 
ran  to  the  harbor,  spoke  to  the  man,  found  him  ready  and 
willing,  gave  the  money  to  his  wife,  and  at  night  when  the 
prisoners  were  shipped  I  contrived  the  exchange.  Pen- 
taur came  with  me  on  my  boat  under  the  name  of  the 
other,  and  Huni  went  to  the  south,  and  was  called  Pen- 
taur.   I  had  not  deceived  the  man  into  thinking  he  would 
stop  at  Chennu.    I  told  him  he  would  be  taken  on  to 
Ethiopia,  for  it  is  always  impossible  to  play  a  man  false 


UARDA. 


when  you  Know  it  is  quite  easy  to  do  it.  It  is  very 
strange  !  It  is  a  real  pleasure  to  cheat  a  cunning-  fellow  or 
a  sturdy  man,  but  who  would  take  in  a  child  or  a  sick 
person  ?  Huni  certainly  would  have  gone  into  the  fire- 
pots  of  hell  without  complaining,  and  he  left  me  quite 
cheerfully.  The  rest,  and  how  we  got  here,  you  your- 
selves know.  In  Syria  at  this  time  of  year  you  will  suf- 
fer a  good  deal  from  rain.  I  know  the  country,  for  I  have 
escorted  many  prisoners  of  war  into  Egypt,  and  I  was 
there  five  years  with  the  troops  of  the  great  Mohar,  father 
of  the  chief  pioneer  Paaker." 

Bent-Anat  thanked  the  brave  fellow,  and  Pentaur  and 
Nebsecht  continued  the  narrative. 

"During  the  voyage,"  said  Nebsecht,  "I  was  uneasy 
about  Pentaur,  for  I  saw  how  he  was  pining,  but  in  the 
desert  he  seemed  to  rouse  himself,  and  of+on  whispered 
sweet  little  songs  that  he  had  composed  while  we 
marched." 

"That  is  strange,"  said  Bent-Anat,  "for  I  also  got 
better  in  the  desert." 

"  Repeat  the  verses  on  the  Beytharan  plant,"*  said 
Nebsecht. 

' '  Do  you  know  the  plant  ?  "  asked  the  poet.  ' '  It  grows 
here  in  many  places  ;  here  it  is.  Only  smell  how  sweet  it 
is  if  you  bruise  the  fleshy  stem  and  leaves.  My  little  verse 
is  simple  enough  ;  it  occurred  to  me  like  many  other  songs 
of  which  you  know  all  the  best. " 

"They  all  praise  the  same  goddess,"  said  Nebsecht, 
laughing. 

' '  But  let  us  have  the  verses, "  said  Bent-Anat.  The  poet 
repeated  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  How  often  in  the  desert  I  have  seen 
The  small  herb,  Beytharan,  in  modest  green  ! 
In  every  tiny  leaf  and  gland  and  hair 
Sweet  perfume  is  distilled,  and  scents  the  air. 
How  is  it  that  in  barren  sandy  ground 
This  little  plant  so  sweet  a  gift  has  found  ? 
And  that  in  me,  in  this  vast  desert  plain, 
The  sleeping  gift  of  song  awakes  again?" 

"Do  you  not  ascribe  to  the  desert  what  is  due  to  love  ?  " 
said  Nefert. 

*  Santolina  fragrantissima. 


UARDA. 


"  I  owe  it  to  both  :  but  I  must  acknowledge  that  the/ 
desert  is  a  wonderful  physician  for  a  sick  soul.  We  take/ 
refuge  from  the  monotony  that  surrounds  us  in  our  ow/i 
reflections  ;  the  senses  are  at  rest  ;  and  here,  undisturbed 
and  uninfluenced  from  without,  it  is  given  to  the  mind /to 
think  out  every  train  of  thought  to  the  end,  to  examine 
and  exhaust  every  feeling  to  its  finest  shades.  In  the  c/ty, 
one  is  always  a  mere  particle  in  a  great  whole,  on  which 
one  is  dependent,  to  which  one  must  contribute,  and/rom 
which  one  must  accept  something.  The  solitary  wan/lerer 
in  the  desert  stands  quite  alone  ;  he  is  in  a  manner  freed 
from  the  ties  which  bind  him  to  any  great  human  com- 
munity ;  he  must  fill  up  the  void  by  his  own  identity,  and 
seek  in  it  that  which  may  give  his  existence  significance 
and  consistency.  Here,  where  the  present  retires  into  the 
background,  the  thoughtful  spirit  finds  no  limits,  however 
remote. " 

"  Yes  ;  one  can  think  well  in  the  desert,"  said  Nebsecht 
"  Much  has  become  clear  to  me  here  that  in  Egypt  I  only- 
guessed  at. " 

"  What  may  that  be  ?  "  asked  Pentaur. 

"  In  the  first  place/'  replied  Nebsecht,  "  that  we  none 
of  us  really  know  anything  rightly  ;  secondly  that  the  ass 
may  love  the  rose,  but  the  rose  will  not  love  the  ass  ;  and 
the  third  thing  I  will  keep  to  myself,  because  it  is  my 
secret,  and  though  it  concerns  all  the  world  no  one  would 
trouble  himself  about  it.  My  lord  chamberlain,  how  is 
this  ?  You  know  exactly  how  low  people  must  bow  before 
the  princess  in  proportion  to  their  rank,  and  have  no  idea 
how  a  backbone  is  made." 

"  Why  should  I  ?  "  asked  the  chamberlain.  "  I  have  to 
attend  to  outward  things,  while  you  are  contemplating  in- 
ward things  ;  else  your  hair  might  be  smoother,  and  your 
dress  less  stained." 

The  travelers  reached  the  old  Cheta  city  of  Hebron 
without  accident ;  there  they  took  leave  of  Abocharabos, 
and  under  the  safe  escort  of  Egyptian  troops  started  again 
for  the  north.  At  Hebron  Pentaur  parted  from  the  prin- 
cess, and  Bent-Anat  bid  him  farewell  without  complain- 
ing. 

Uarda's  father,  who  had  learned  every  path  and  bridge 
in  Syria,  accompanied  the  poet ;  while  the  physician  N^b- 


UARDA. 


401 


secht  remained  with  the  ladies,  whose  good  star  seemed  to 
have  deserted  them  with  Pentaur's  departure,  for  the  vio- 
lent  winter  rains  which  fell  in  the  mountains  of  Samaria 
destroyed  the  roads,  soaked  through  the  tents,  and  con- 
demned them  frequently  to  undesirable  delays.  At  Megid- 
do  they  were  received  with  high  honors  by  the  command- 
ant of  the  Egyptian  garrison  and  they  were  compelled  to 
linger  here  some  days,  for  Nefert,  who  had  been  particu- 
larly eager  to  hurry  forward,  was  taken  ill,  and  Nebsecht 
was  obliged  to  forbid  her  proceeding  at  this  season. 

Uarda  grew  pale  and  thoughtful,  and  Bent-Anat  saw 
with  anxiety  that  the  tender  roses  were  fading  from  the 
cheeks  of  her  pretty  favorite  ;  but  when  she  questioned  her 
as  to  what  ailed  her  she  gave  an  evasive  answer.  She  had 
never  either  mentioned  Rameri's  name  before  the  princess, 
nor  shown  her  her  mothers  jewel,  for  she  felt  as  if  all  that 
had  passed  between  her  and  the  prince  was  a  secret 
which  did  not  belong  to  her  alone.  Yet  another  reason 
sealed  her  lips.  She  was  passionately  devoted  to  Bent- 
Anat,  and  she  told  herself  that  if  the  princess  heard  it  all, 
she  would  either  blame  her  brother  or  laugh  at  his  affection 
as  at  a  child's  play,  and  she  felt  as  if  in  that  case  she  could 
not  love  Rameri's  sister  any  more. 

A  messenger  had  been  sent  on  from  the  first  frontier 
station  to  the  king's  camp  to  inquire  by  which  road  the 
princess  and  her  party  should  leave  Megiddo.  But  the 
emissary  returned  with  a  short  and  decided  though  affec- 
tionate letter,  written  by  the  kings  "own  hand,  to  his 
daughter  desiring  her  not  to  quit  Megiddo,  which  was  a 
safe  magazine  and  arsenal  for  the  army,  strongly  fortified 
and  garrisoned,  as  it  commanded  the  roads  for  the  sea 
into  north  and  central  Palestine.  Decisive  encounters, 
he  said,  were  impending,  and  she  knew  that  the  Egyptians 
always  excluded  their  wives  and  daughters  from  their  war 
train,  and  regarded  them  as  the  best  reward  of  victory, 
when  peace  was  obtained. 

While  the  ladies  were  waiting  in  Megiddo,  Pentaur  and 
his  red-bearded  guide  proceeded  northward  with  a  small 
mounted  escort,  with  which  they  were  supplied  by  the 
commandant  of  Hebron. 

He  himself  rode  with  dignity,  though  this  journey  was 
the  first  occasion  on  which  he  had  sat  on  horseback.  He 
26 


4o2  UARDA. 


seemed  to  have  come  into  the  world  with  the  art  of  riding 
born  with  him.  As  soon  as  he  had  learned  from  his  com- 
panions how  to  grasp  the  bridle  and  had  made  himself 
familiar  with  the  nature  of  the  horse,  it  gave  him  the 
greatest  delight  to  tame  and  subdue  a  fiery  steed.  / 

He  had  left  the  priest's  robes  in  Egypt.  He  wore  a 
coat  of  mail,  a  sword  and  battle-ax,  like  a  warrior,  and  his 
long  beard,  which  had  grown  during  his  captivity  now 
flowed  down  over  his  breast.  Uarda's  father  often  looked 
at  him  with  admiration,  and  said  : 

"One  might  think  the  Mohar,  with  whom  I  often  trav- 
eled these  roads,  had  risen  from  the  dead.  He  looked  like 
you  he  spoke  like  you,  he  called  the  men  as  you  do,  nay 
he  sat  as  you  do  when  the  road  was  too  bad  for  his  chariot, 
and  he  got  on  horseback  and  held  the  reins.  ' 

None  of  Pentaur's  men,  except  his  red-bearded  friend, 
was  more  to  him  than  a  mere  hired  servant,  and  he  usually 
preferred  to  ride  alone,  apart  from  the  little  troop,  musing 
on  the  past— seldom  on  the  future— and  generally  observ- 
ing all  that  lay  on  his  way  with  a  keen  eye.  _ 

They  soon  reached  Lebanon;  between  it  and  anti- 
Lebanon  a  road  led  through  the  great  Syrian  valley.  It 
rejoiced  him  to  see  with  his  own  eyes  the  distant  shimmer 
of  the  white  snow-capped  peaks,  of  which  he  had  often 
heard  warriors  talk.  .  .  , 

The  country  between  the  two  mountain  ranges  was  rich 
and  fruitful,  and  from  the  heights  waterfalls  and  torrents 
rushed  into  the  valley.  Many  villages  and  towns  lay  on 
his  road,  but  most  of  them  had  been  damaged  in  the  war. 
The  peasants  had  been  robbed  of  their  teams  of  cattle,  the 
flocks  had  been  driven  off  from  the  shepherds,  and  when  a 
vine-dresser  who  was  training  his  vine  saw  the  little  troop 
approaching,  he  fled  to  the  ravines  and  forests. 

The  traces  of  the  plow  and  the  spade  were  everywhere 
visible  but  the  fields  were  for  the  most  part  not  sown  ;  the 
voung  peasants  were  under  arms,  the  gardens  and 
meadows  were  trodden  down  by  soldiers,  the  houses  and 
cottages  plundered  and  destroyed  or  burned.  Everything 
bore  the  trace  of  the  devastation  of  the  war,  only  the  oak 
and  cedar  forests  lorded  it  proudly  over  the  mountain 
slopes,  planes  and  locust  trees  grew  in  groves  and  the 
gorges  and  rifts  of  the  thinly  wooded  limestone  hills,  wiucfc 


UARDA. 


403 


bordered  the  fertile  lowland,  were  rilled  with  evergreen 
brushwood. 

At  this  time  of  year  everything  was  moist  and  well 
watered,  and  Pentaur  compared  the  country  with  Egypt, 
and  observed  how  the  same  results  were  attained  here  as 
there,  but  by  different  agencies.  He  remembered  that 
morning  on  Sinai,  and  said  to  himself  again:  ''Another 
God  than  ours  rules  here,  and  the  old  masters  were  not 
wrong  who  reviled  godless  strangers  and  warned  the  un- 
initiated, to  whom  the  secret  of  the  One  must  remain 
unrevealed,  to  quit  their  home." 

The  nearer  he  approached  the  king's  camp  the  more  viv- 
idly he  thought  of  Bent-Anat,  and  the  faster  his  heart  beat 
from  time  to  time  when  he  thought  of  his  meeting  with 
the  king.  On  the  whole  he  was  full  of  cheerful  confidence, 
which  he  felt  to  be  folly,  and  which  nevertheless  he  could 
not  repress. 

Ameni  had  often  blamed  him  for  his  too  great  diffidence 
and  his  want  of  ambition,  when  he  had  willingly  let  others 
pass  him  by.  He  remembered  this  now,  and  smiled  and 
understood  himself  less  than  ever,  for  though  he  resolutely 
repeated  to  himself  a  hundred  times  that  he  was  a  low- 
born, poor  and  excommunicated  priest,  the  feeling  would 
not  be  smothered  that  he  had  a  right  to  claim  Bent-Anat 
for  his  own. 

And  if  the  king  refused  him  his  daughter— if  he  made 
him  pay  for  his  audacity  with  his  life  ? 

Not  an  eyelash,  he  well  knew,  would  tremble  under  the 
blow  of  the  ax,  and  he  would  die  content  ;  for  that  which 
she  had  granted  him  was  his,  and  no  god  could  take  from 
him. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Once  or  twice  Pentaur  and  his  companions  had  had  to 
defend  themselves  against  hostile  mountaineers,  who 
rushed  suddenly  upon  them  out  of  the  woods.  When  they 
were  about  two  days '  journey  still  from  the  end  of  their 
march  they  had  a  bloody  skirmish  with  a  roving  band  of 


464  UAR13A. 

men  that  seemed  to  belong  to  a  larger  detachment  ot 
troops.  j-key  got  to  Kadesh  the  more  familiar 

Kaschta  showed  himself  with  every  stock  and  stone,  and 
he  went  forward  to  obtain  information  ;  he  returned  some- 
what anxious,  for  he  had  perceived  the  main  body  of  the 
Cheta  army  on  the  road  which  they  must  cross.  How 
came  the  enemy  here  in  the  rear  of  the  Egyptian  army  ? 
Could  Rameses  have  sustained  a  defeat  ? 

Only  the  day  before  they  had  met  some  Egyptian 
soldiers,  who  had  told  them  that  the  king  was  staying  m 
the  camp,  and  a  great  battle  was  impending.  This 
however,  could  not  have  by  this  time  been  decided,  and 
they  had  met  no  flying  Egyptians.  . 

4  4  If  we  can  only  get  two  miles  further  without  having 
to  fight"  said  Uarda's  father.  "I  know  what  to  do. 
Down  below,  there  lies  a  ravine,  and  from  it  a  path  leads 
over  hill  and  vale  to  the  plain  of  Kadesh.  No  one  ever 
knew  it  but  the  Mohar  and  his  most  confidential  servants. 
About  half-way  there  is  a  hidden  cave,  in  which  we  have 
often  stayed  the  whole  day  long.  The  Cheta  used  to  be- 
live  that  the  Mohar  possessed  magic  powers,  and  could 
make  himself  invisible,  for  when  they  lay  in  wait  for  us 
on  the  way  he  used  suddenly  to  vanish  ;  but  certainly  not 
into  the  clouds,  only  into  the  cave,  which  the  Mohar  used 
to  call  his  Tuat*  If  you  are  not  afraid  of  a  climb,  and 
will  lead  your  horse  behind  you  for  a  mile  or  two,  I  can 
show  you  the  way,  and  to-morrow  morning  we  will  be  at 

the  camp."  ,  '  , 

Pentaur  let  his  guide  lead  the  way  ;  they  came,  without 
having  occasion  to  fight,  as  far  as  the  gorge  between  the 
hills  through  which  a  full  and  foaming  mountain  torrent 
rushed  to  the  valley.  Kaschta  dropped  from  his  horse 
and  the  others  did  the  same.  After  the  horses  had  passed 
through  the  water  he  carefully  effaced  their  tracks  as  far 
as  the  road,  then  for  about  half  a  mile  he  ascended  the 
valley  against  the  stream.  At  last  he  stopped  in  front  of 
a  thick  oleander-bush,  looked  carefully  about,  and  lightly 
pushed  it  aside  ;  when  he  had  found  an  entrance,  his  com- 
panions and  their  weary  scrambling  beasts  followed  him 


*  Tuat — the  nether-world,  the  abyss. 


UARDA. 


40S 


without  difficulty,  and  they  presently  found  themselves  in 
a  grove  of  lofty  cedars.  Now  they  had  to  squeeze  them- 
selves between  masses  of  rock,  now  they  labored  up  and 
down  over  smooth  pebbles,  which  offered  scarcely  any  foot- 
ing to  the  horses'  hoofs  ;  now  they  had  to  push  their  way 
through  thick  brushwood,  and  now  to  cross  little  brooks 
swelled  by  the  winter  rains. 

The  road  became  more  difficult  at  every  step,  then  it 
began  to  grow  dark,  and  heavy  drops  of  rain  fell  from  the 
clouded  sky. 

"Make  haste,  and  keep  close  to  me,"  cried  Kaschta. 
"Half  an  hour. more,  and  we  shall  be  under  shelter,  if  I 
do  not  lose  my  way." 

Then  a  horse  broke  down,  and  with  great  difficulty  was 
got  up  again  ;  the  rain  fell  with  increased  violence,  the 
night  grew  darker,  and  the  soldier  often  found  himself 
brought  to  a  standstill,  feeling  for  the  path  with  his 
hands  ;  twice  he  thought  he  had  lost  it,  but  he  would  not 
give  in  till  he  had  recovered  the  track.  At  last  he  stood 
still,  and  called  Pentaur  to  come  to  him. 

"  Hereabouts,"  said  he,  "the  cave  must  be  ;  keep  close 
to  me — it  is  possible  that  we  may  come  upon  some  of 
the  pioneers  people.  Provisions  and  fuel  were  always 
kept  here  in  his  father's  time.  Can  you  see  me?  Hold 
on  to  my  girdle,  and  bend  your  head  low  till  I  tell  you 
you  may  stand  upright  again.  Keep  your  ax  ready,  we 
may  find  some  of  the  Cheta  or  bandits  roosting  there. 
You  people  must  wait — we  will  soon  call  you  to  come  under 
shelter." 

Pentaur  closely  followed  his  guide,  pushing  his  way 
through  the  dripping  brushwood,  crawling  through  a  low 
passage  in  the  rock,  and  at  last  emerging  on  a  small  rocky 
plateau. 

"Take  care  where  you  are  going!'  cried  Kaschta. 
"Keep  to  the  left,  to  the  right  there  is  a  deep  abyss.  I 
smell  smoke  !  Keep  your  hand  on  your  ax,  there  must  be 
some  one  in  the  cave.  Wait  !  I  will  fetch  the  men  as  far 
as  this." 

The  soldier  went  back,  and  Pentaur  listened  for  any 
sounds  that  might  come  from  the  same  direction  as  the 
smoke.  He  fancied  he  could  perceive  a  small  gleam  of 
light,  and  he  certainly  heard  quite  plainly,  first  a  tone  of 


406 


UARDA. 


complaint,  then  an  angry  voice  ;  he  went  toward  the  light, 
feeling  his  way  by  the  wall  on  his  left ;  the  light  shone 
broader  and  brighter,  and  seemed  to  issue  from  a  crack  in 
a  door. 

By  this  time  the  soldier  had  rejoined  Pentaur,  and  both 
listened  for  a  few  minutes  ;  then  the  poet  whispered  to  his 

guide  : 

"  They  are  speaking  Egyptian  ;  I  caught  a  few  words." 

''All  the  better,"  said  Kaschta.  "Paaker  or  some  of 
his  people  are  in  there  ;  the  door  is  there  still,  and  shut. 
If  we  give  four  hard  and  three  gentle  knocks,  it  will  be 
opened.    Can  you  understand  what  they  are  saying?  " 

"  Some  one  is  begging  to  be  set  free,"  replied  Pentaur, 
"and  speaks  of  some  traitor.  The  other  has  a  rough 
voice,  and  says  he  must  follow  his  master's  orders.  Now 
the  one  who  spoke  before  is  crying  ;  do  you  hear  ?  He  is 
entreating  him  by  the  soul  of  his  father  to  take  his  fetters 
off.  How  despairing  his  voice  is  !  Knock,  Kaschta — it 
strikes  me  we  are  come  at  the  right  moment — knock,  I 
say." 

The  soldier  knocked  first  four  times,  then  three  times. 
A  shriek  rang  through  the  cave,  and  they  could  hear  a 
heavy,  rusty  bolt  drawn  back,  the  roughly-hewn  door  was 
opened,  and  a  hoarse  voice  asked  : 

' '  Is  that  Paaker  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  the  soldier,  "  I  am  Kaschta.  Do  not 
you  know  me  again,  Nubi  ?  " 

The  man  thus  addressed,  who  was  Paaker's  Ethiopian 
slave,  drew  back  in  surprise. 

"Are  you  still  alive?"  he  exclaimed.  "What  brings 
you  here  ?  " 

"  My  lord  here  will  tell  you,"  answered  Kaschta,  as  he 
made  way  for  Pentaur  to  enter  the  cave.  The  poet  went 
up  to  the  black  man,  and  the  light  of  the  fire  which  burned 
in  the  cave  fell  full  on  his  face. 

The  old  slave  stared  at  him,  and  drew  back  in  astonish- 
ment and  terror.  He  threw  himself  on  the  earth,  howled 
like  a  dog  that  fawns  at  the  feet  of  his  angry  master,  and 
cried  out  : 

"He  ordered  it — Spirit  of  my  master  !  he  ordered  it." 
Pentaur  stood  still,  astounded  and  incapable  of  speech, 
till  he  perceived  a  young  man,  who  crept  up  to  him  on  his 


UARDA. 


hands  and  feet,  which  were  bound  with  thongs,  and  who 
cried  to  him  in  a  tone,  in  which  terror  was  mingled  with  a 
tenderness  which  touched  Pentaur's  very  soul : 

"Save  me— spirit  of  the  Mohar!  save  me,  father!" 
Then  the  poet  spoke. 

"I  am  no  spirit  of  the  dead,"  said  he.  "I  am  the 
priest  Pentaur;  and  I  know  you,  boy;  you  are  Horus, 
Paaker s  brother,  who  was  brought  up  with  me  in  the 
temple  of  Seti."  .  , 

The  prisoner  approached  him  trembling,  looked  at  him 
inquiringly  and  exclaimed  : 

< '  Be  you  who  you  may,  you  are  exactly  like  my  father 
in  person  and  in  voice.  Loosen  my  bonds,  and  listen  to 
me,  for  the  most  hideous,  atrocious,  and  accursed  treach- 
ery threatens  us— the  king  and  all." 

Pentaur  drew  his  sword  and  cut  the  leather  thongs 
which  bound  the  young  man's  hands  and  feet.  He 
stretched  his  released  limbs,  uttering  thanks  to  the  gods, 
then  he  cried  : 

"  If  you  love  Egypt  and  the  king  follow  me  ;  perhaps 
there  is  yet  time  to  hinder  the  hideous  deed,  and  to  frus- 
trate this  treachery. " 

"The  night  is  dark,"  said  Kaschta,  "and  the  road  to 
the  valley  is  dangerous."  _ 

"You  must  follow  me  if  it  is  to  your  death  ! '  cried  the 
youth,  and,  seizing  Pentaurs  hand,  he  dragged  him  with 
him  out  of  the  cave. 

As  soon  as  the  black  slave  had  satisfied  himself  that 
Pentaur  was  the  priest  whom  he  had  seen  fighting  in 
front  of  the  paraschites'  hovel,  and  not  the  ghost  of  his 
dead  master,  he  endeavored  to  slip  past  Paaker's  brother, 
but  Horus  observed  the  maneuver,  and  seized  him  by  his 
woolly  hair.  The  slave  cried  out  loudly,  and  whimpered 
out  : 

"If  thou  dost  escape,  Paaker  will  kill  me  ;  he  swore  he 
would." 

"Wait  !  "  said  the  youth.  He  dragged  the  slave  back, 
flung  him  into  the  cave,  and  blocked  up  the  door  with  a 
huge  log,  which  lay  near  it  for  that  purpose. 

When  the  three  men  had  crept  back  through  the  low 
passage  in  the  rocks,  and  found  themselves  once  more  in 
the  open  air,  they  found  a  high  wind  was  blowing. 


4o8 


UARDA. 


' '  The  storm  will  soon  be  over, "  said  Horus.  ' '  See  how 
the  clouds  are  driving  !  Let  us  have  horses,  Pentaur,  for 
there  is  not  a  minute  to  be  lost." 

The  poet  ordered  Kaschta  to  summon  the  people  to 
start,  but  the  soldier  advised  differently. 

"Men  and  horses  are  exhausted, "  he  said,  ' ' and  we  shall 
get  on  very  slowly  in  the  dark.  Let  the  beasts  feed  for  an 
hour,  and  the  men  get  rested  and  warm  ;  by  that  time  the 
moon  will  be  up,  and  we  shall  make  up  for  the  delay  by 
having  fresh  horses,  and  light  enough  to  see  the  road. " 

''The  man  is  right,"  said  Horus ;  and  he  led  Kaschta 
to  a  cave  in  the  rocks,  where  barley  and  dates  for  the 
horses,  and  a  few  jars  of  wine,  had  been  preserved.  They 
soon 'had  lighted  a  fire,  and,  while  some  of  the  men  took 
care  of  the  horses,  and  others  cooked  a  warm  mess  of 
victuals,  Horus  and  Pentaur  walked  up  and  down  im- 
patiently. 

"  Had  you  been  long  bound  in  those  thongs  when  we 
came  ?  "  asked  Pentaur. 

"Yesterday  my  brother  fell  upon  me,"  replied  Horus. 
"He  is  by  this  time  a  long  way  ahead  of  us,  and  if 
he  joins  the  Cheta,  and  we  do  not  reach  the  Egyptian 
camp  before  daybreak,  all  is  lost." 

"  Paaker,  then,  is  plotting  treason  ?  " 

' '  Treason,  the  foulest,  blackest  treason  ! "  exclaimed 
the  young  man.     "  Oh,  my  lost  father  !  " 

"Confide  in  me,"  said  Pentaur,  going  up  to  the  un- 
happy youth,  who  had  hidden  his  face  in  his  hands. 
' '  What  is  Paaker  plotting  ?  How  is  it  that  your  brother 
is  your  enemy  ?  " 

"He  is  the  elder  of  us  two  !  "  said  Horus,  with  a  trem- 
bling voice.  "When  my  father  died  I  had  only  a  short 
time  before  left  the  school  of  Seti,  and  wTith  his  last  words 
my  father  enjoined  me  to  respect  Paaker  as  the  head  of 
our  family.  He  is  domineering  and  violent,  and  will 
allow  no  one's  will  to  cross  his  ;  but  I  bore  everything, 
and  always  obeyed  him,  often  against  my  better  judg- 
ment. I  remained  with  him  two  years,  then  I  went  to 
Thebes,  and  there  I  married,  and  my  wife  and  child  are 
now  living  there  with  my  mother.  About  sixteen  months 
afterward  I  came  back  to  Syria,  and  we  traveled  through 
the  country  together  •  but  by  this  time  I  did  not  choose 


UARDA.  409 

to  be  the  mere  tool  of  my  brother's  will,  for  I  had  grown 
prouder,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  father  of  my  child 
ousrht  not  to  be  subservient,  even  to  his  own  brother, 
We  often  quarreled,  and  had  a  bad  time  together,  and  lite 
became  quite  unendurable,  when— about  eight  weeks  since 
— Paaker  came  back  from  Thebes,  and  the  king  gave  him  to 
understand  that  he  approved  more  of  my  reports  than  ot 
his  From  my  childhood  I  have  always  been  soft-hearted 
and  patient ;  every  one  says  I  am  like  my  mother ■ ;  but 
what  Paaker  made  me  suffer  by  words  and  deeds  that  is 

—I  could  not  "    His  voice  broke,  and  Pentaur  felt  how 

cruelly  he  had  suffered  ;  then  he  went  on  again  : 

"  What  happened  to  my  brother  in  Egypt,  1  do  not 
know  for  he  is  very  reserved,  and  asks  for  no  sympathy 
either'  in  joy  or  in  sorrow  :  but  from  words  he  has  dropped 
now  and  then  I  gather  that  he  not  only  bitterly  hates 
Mena  the  charioteer— who  certainly  did  him  an  injury— 
but  has  some  grudge  against  the  king  too.  I  spoke  to 
him  of  it  once,  but  only  once,  for  his  rage  is  unbounded 
when  he  is  provoked,  and  after  all  he  is  my  elder  brother. 

"For  some  days  they  have  been  preparing  in  the  camp 
for  a  decisive  battle,  and  it  was  our  duty  to  ascertain  the 
position  and  strength  of  the  enemy;  the  king  gave  me, 
and  not  Paaker,  the  commission  to  prepare  the  report. 
Early  yesterday  morning  I  drew  it  out  and  wrote  it ;  then 
my  brother  said  he  would  carry  it  to  the  camp,  and  I  was 
to  wait  here.  I  positively  refused,  as  Rameses  had 
required  the  report  at  my  hands,  and  not  at  his.  Well,  he 
raved  like  a  madman,  declared  that  I  had  taken  advan- 
tage of  his  absence  to  insinuate  myself  into  the  kings 
favor,  and  commanded  me  to  obey  him  as  the  head  of  the 
house,  in  the  name  of  my  father. 

"I  was  sitting  irresolute,  when  he  went  out  ot  the 
cavern  to  call  his  horses ;  then  my  eyes  fell  on  the  things 
which  the  old  black  slave  was  tying  together  to  load  on  a 
pack-horse— among  them  was  a  roll  of  writing.  I  fancied 
it  was  my  own,  and  took  it  up  to  look  at  it,  when— what 
should  I  find  ?  At  the  risk  of  my  life  1  had  gone  among 
the  Cheta,  and  had  found  that  the  main  body  of  their 
army  is  collected  in  a  cross-valley  of  the  Orontes,  quite 
hidden  in  the  mountains  to  the  northeast  of  Kadesh  ;  and 
in  the  roll  it  was  stated,  in  Paaker's  own  handwriting, 


4io 


UARDA. 


that  that  valley  is  clear,  and  the  way  through  it  open,  and 
well  suited  for  the  passage  of  the  Egyptian  war-chariots  ; 
various  other  false  details  were  given,  and  when  I  looked 
further  among  his  things,  I  found  between  the  arrows  in 
his  quiver,  on  which  he  had  written  'death  to  Mena/ 
another  little  roll  of  writing.  I  tore  it  open,  and  my  blood 
ran  cold  when  I  saw  to  whom  it  was  addressed." 

"To  the  king  of  the  Cheta  ? "  cried  Pentaur,  in  excite- 
ment. 

"To  his  chief  officer,  Titure,"*  continued  Horus.  "I 
was  holding  both  the  rolls  in  my  hand,  when  Paaker 
came  back  into  the  cave.  'Traitor  ! '  I  cried  out  to  him  ; 
but  he  flung  the  lasso,  with  which  he  had  been  catching 
the  stray  horses,  threw  it  round  my  neck,  and  as  I  fell 
choking  on  the  ground,  he  and  the  black  man,  who  obeys 
him  like  a  dog,  bound  me  hand  and  foot ;  he  left  the  old 
negro  to  keep  guard  over  me,  took  the  rolls  and  rode  away. 
Look,  there  are  the  stars,  and  the  moon  will  soon  be  up." 

"Make  haste,  men  !  "  cried  Pentaur.  "The  three  best 
horses  for  me,  Horus  and  Kaschta  ;  the  rest  remain  here." 

As  the  red-bearded  soldier  led  the  horses  forward,  the 
moon  shone  forth,  and  within  an  hour  the  travelers  had 
reached  the  plain  ;  they  sprang  on  to  the  beasts  and  rode 
madly  on  toward  the  lake,  which,  when  the  sun  rose, 
gleamed  before  them  in  silvery-green.  As  they  drew 
near  to  it  they  could  discern,  on  its  treeless  western  shore, 
black  masses  moving  hither  and  thither  •  clouds  of  dust 
rose  up  from  the  plain,  pierced  by  flashes  of  light,  like  the 
rays  of  the  sun  reflected  from  a  moving  mirror. 

"The  battle  is  begun  !  "  cried  Horus ;  and  he  fell  sob- 
bing on  his  horse's  neck. 

"But  all  is  not  lost  yet !  "  exclaimed  the  poet,  spurring 
his  horse  to  a  final  effort  of  strength.  His  companions 
did  the  same,  but  first  Kaschtas  horse  fell  under  him, 
then  Horus's  broke  down. 

"  Help  may  be  given  by  the  left  wing  !  "  cried  Horus. 
4 '  I  will  run  as  fast  as  I  can  on  foot — I  know  where  to  find 
them.  You  will  easily  find  the  king  if  you  follow  the 
stream  to  the  stone  bridge.  In  the  cross-valley  about  a 
thousand  paces  further  north — to  the  northwest  of  our 

*This  name  occurs  among  the  Cheta  on  the  triumphal  Monuments  of 
the  Ramesseum. 


UARDA. 


411 


stronghold — the  surprise  is  to  be  effected.  Try  to  get 
through,  and  warn  Rameses  ;  the  Egyptian  pass- word  is 
'Bent-Anat/  the  name  of  the  king's*  favorite  daughter. 
But  even  if  you  had  wings,  and  could  fly  straight  to  him, 
they  would  overpower  him  if  I  cannot  succeed  in  turning 
the  left  wing  on  the  rear  of  the  enemy.  '' 

Pentaur  galloped  onward;  but  it  was  not  long  before 
his  horse  too  gave  way,  and  he  ran  forward  like  a  man 
who  runs  a  race,  and  shouted  the  pass-word  "  Bent-Anat " 
— for  the  ring  of  her  name  seemed  to  give  him  vigor. 
Presently  he  came  upon  a  mounted  messenger  of  the 
enemy  ;  he  struck  him  down  from  his  horse,  flung  himself 
into  the  saddle,  and  rushed  on  toward  the  camp,  as  if  he 
were  riding  to  his  wedding. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

During  the  night  which  had  proved  so  eventful  to  our 
friends,  much  had  occurred  in  the  kings  camp,  for  the 
troops  were  to  advance  to  the  long-anticipated  battle 
before  sunrise. 

Paaker  had  given  his  false  report  of  the  enemy's  move- 
ments to  the  Pharoah  with  his  own  hand  ;  a  council  of 
war  had  been  held,  and  each  division  had  received  in- 
structions as  to  where  it  was  to  take  up  its  position.  The 
corps,  which  bore  the  name  of  the  Sun-god  Ra,  advanced 
from  the  south  toward  Schabatun,*  so  as  to  surround  the 

*  Kadesh  was  the  chief  city  of  the  Cheta.  i.  e.r  Aramaeans,  round  which 
the  united  forces  of  all  the  peoples  of  western  Asia  had  collected.  There 
were  seve,  \  cities  called  Kadesh.  That  which  frequently  checked  the 
forces  of  Thotmes  III.,  may  have  been  situated  further  to  the  south; 
but  the  Cheta  city  of  Kadesh,  where  Rameses  II.,  fought  so  hard  a  battle, 
was  undoubtedly  on  the  Orontes,  for  the  river  which  is  depicted  on  the 
pylon  of  the  Ramesseum  as  parting  into  two  streams  which  wash  the 
walls  of  the  fortress,  is  called  Aruntha,  and  in  the  Epos  of  Pentaur  it  is 
stated  that  this  battle  took  place  at  Kadesh  by  the  Orontes.  The  name 
of  the  city  survives,  at  a  spot  just  three  miles  north  of  the  lake  of 
Riblah.  The  battle  itself  I  have  described  from  the  Epos  of  Pentaur, 
the  national  epic  of  Egypt.  It  ends  with  these  words :  "  This  was  written 
and  made  by  the  scribe  Pentaur."    It  was  so  highly  esteemed  that  it  is 


412 


UARDA. 


lake  on  the  east,  and  fall  on  the  enemy's  flank  ;  the  corps 
of  Seth,  composed  of  men  from  lower  Egypt,  was  sent  on 
to  Arnam  to  form  the  center ;  the  king  himself,  with  the 
.flower  of  the  chariot-guard,  proposed  to  follow  the  road 
through  the  valley,  which  Paakers  report  represented  as 
a  safe  and  open  passage  to  the  plain  of  the  Orontes. 
Thus,  while  the  other  divisions  occupied  the  enemy,  he 
could  cross  the  Orontes  by  a  ford,  and  fall  on  the  rear  of 
the  fortress  of  Kadesh  from  the  northwest.  The  corps  of 
Amon,  with  the  Ethiopian  mercenaries,  were  to  support 
him,  joining  him  by  another  route,  which  the  pioneer's 
false  indications  represented  as  connecting  the  line  of 
operations.  The  corps  of  Ptah  remained  as  a  reserve 
behind  the  left  wing. 

The  soldiers  had  not  gone  to  rest  as  usual ;  heavily 
armed  troops,  who  bore  in  one  hand  a  shield  of  half  a 
man's  height,  and  in  the  other  a  scimitar,  or  a  short, 
pointed  sword,  guarded  the  camp,  where  numerous  fires 
burned,  round  which  crowded  the  resting  warriors.  Here 
a  wine-skin  was  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  there  a  joint 
was  roasting  on  a  wooden  spit ;  further  on  a  party  were 
throwing  dice  for  the  booty  they  had  won,  or  playing  at 
morra.  All  was  in  eager  activity,  and  many  a  scuffle 
occurred  among  the  excited  soldiers,  and  had  to  be  settled 
by  the  camp  watch. 

Near  the  inclosed  plots,  where  the  horses  were  tethered, 
the  smiths  were  busily  engaged  in  shoeing  the  beasts 
which  needed  it,  and  in  sharpening  the' points  of  the 
lances  ;  the  servants  of  the  chariot-guard  were  also  fully 
occupied,  as  the  chariots  had  for  the  most  part  been 
brought  over  the  mountains  in  detached  pieces  on  the 
backs  of  pack-horses  and  asses,*  and  now  had  to  be  put 
together  again,  and  to  have  their  wheels  greased.  On  the 
eastern  side  of  the  camp  stood  a  canopy,  under  which  the 

engraved  in  stone  twice  at  Luqsor,  and  once  at  Karnak.  Copies  of  it  on 
papvrus  are  frequent ;  for  instance,  papyrus  Sallier  III.,  and  papyrus 
Raifet— unfortunately  much  injured— in  the  Louvre.  The  principal  in- 
cident, the  rescue  of  the  king  from  the  enemy,  is  repeated  at  the  Rames- 
seum  at  Thebes,  and  at  Abu  Simbel.  It  was  translated  into  French  by 
Vicomte  E.  de  Rouge.  The  camp  of  Rameses  is  depicted  on  the  pylons 
of  Luqsor  and  the  Ramesseum.  t 

*  The  different  parts  of  dismembered  chariots  are  represented  as  being 
Carried  on  asses  in  the  picture  of  the  camp  in  the  Ramesseum. 


UARDA.  413 


standards  were  kept,  and  there  numbers  of  priests  were 
occupied  in  their  office  of  blessing  the  warriors,  offering  sac- 
rifices, and  singing  hymns  and  litanies.  But  these  pious 
sounds  were  frequently  overpowered  by  the  loud  voices  of 
the  -amblers  and  revelers,  by  the  blows  of  the  hammers, 
the  hoarse  braying  of  the  a.sses,  and  the  neighing  of  the 
horses.  From  time  to  time  also  the  deep  roar  of  the 
kind's  war-lions*  might  be  heard  ;  these  beasts  followed 
him  into  the  fight,  and  were  now  howling  for  food,  as 
they  had  been  kept  fasting  to  excite  their  fury. 

In  the  midst  of  the  camp  stood  the  kings  tent,  sur- 
rounded by  foot  and  chariot-guards.  The  auxiliary  troops 
were  encamped  in  divisions  according  to  their  nation- 
ality and  between  them  the  Egyptian  legions  of  heavy- 
armed  soldiers  and  archers.  Here  might  be  seen  the 
black  Ethiopian  with  woolly  matted  hair,  111  which  a  few 
feathers  were  stuck— the  handsome,  well-proportioned 
"son  of  the  desert"  from  the  sandy  Arabian  shore  of  the 
Red  Sea  who  performed  his  wild  war-dance,  flourishing 
his  lance,  with  a  peculiar  wriggle  of  his  hips— pale  Sar- 
dinians, with  metal  helmets  and  heavy  swords— light- 
colored  Libyans,  with  tattooed  arms,  and  ostrich-feathers 
on  their  heads— brown,  bearded  Arabs,  worshipers  of  the 
stars  inseparable  from  their  horses,  and  armed,  some 
with  lances,  and  some  with  bows  and  arrows.  And  not 
less  various  than  their  aspect  were  the  tongues  of  the 
allied  troops— but  all  obedient  to  the  king's  word  of  com- 
mand. ,  t, 

In  the  midst  of  the  royal  tents  was  a  lightly  constructed 
temple  with  the  statues  of  the  gods  of  Thebes,  and  of  the 
king  s  forefathers ;  clouds  of  incense  rose  m  front  of  it, 
for  the  priests  were  engaged  from  the  eve  of  the  battle 
until  it  was  over,  in  prayers  and  offerings  to  Amon,  the 
king  of  the  gods,  to  Necheb,  the  goddess  of  victory,  and 
to  Menth,  the  god  of  war. 

The  keeper  of  the  lions  stood  by  the  Pharaoh  s  sleeping 
tent  and  the  tent,  which  served  as  a  council-chamber, 
was  distinguished  by  the  standards  in  front  of  it ;  but  the 
council-tent  was  empty  and  still,  while  m  the  kitchen- 
tent,  as  well  as  in  the  wine-store  close  by,  all  was  in  a 
*  See  Diodorus  L,  47  Also  the  pictures  of  the  king  rushing  to  the 
fight. 


414 


UARDA. 


bustle.  The  large  pavilion,  in  which  Rameses  and  his 
suite  were  taking-  their  evening  meal,  was  more  brilliantly 
lighted  than  all  the  others  ;  it  was  a  covered  tent,  a  long 
square  in  shape,  and  all  round  it  were  colored  lamps, 
which  made  it  as  light  as  day  ;  a  body-guard  of  Sardin- 
ians, Libyans,  and  Egyptians  guarded  it  with  drawn 
swords,  and  seemed  too  wholly  absorbed  with  the  im- 
portance of  their  office  even  to  notice  the  dishes  and  wine- 
jars,  which  the  kings  pages — the  sons  of  the  highest 
families  in  Egypt— took  at  the  tent  door  from  the  cooks 
and  the  butlers. 

The  walls  and  slanting  roof  of  this  quickly-built  and 
movable  banqueting  hall,  consisted  of  a  strong,  impene- 
trable carpet-stuff,  woven  at  Thebes,  and  afterward  dyed 
purple  at  Tanis  by  the  Phoenicians.  The  cedar-wood  pil- 
lars of  the  tent  were  covered  with  gold,  and  the  ropes, 
which  secured  the  light  erection  to  the  tent-pegs,  were 
twisted  of  silk,  and  thin  threads  of  silver.*  Seated  round 
four  tables,  more  than  a  hundred  men  were  taking  their 
evening  meal ;  at  three  of  them  the  generals  of  the  army, 
the  chief  priests,  and  councilors,  sat  on  light  stools  ; 
at  the  fourth,  and  at  some  distance  from  the  others,  were 
the  princes  of  the  blood  ;  and  the  king  himself  sat  apart  at 
a  high  table,  on  a  throne  supported  by  gilt  figures  of  Asi- 
atic prisoners  in  chains.  His  table  and  throne  stood  on  a 
low  dais  covered  with  panther-skin  ;  but  even  without  that 
Rameses  would  have  towered  above  his  companions.  His 
form  was  powerful,  and  there  was  a  commanding  aspect 
in  his  bearded  face,  and  in  the  high  brow,  crowned  with 
a  golden  diadem  adorned  with  the  heads  of  two  Uraeus- 
snakes,  wearing  the  crowns  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt. 
A  broad  collar  of  precious  stones  covered  half  his  breast, 
the  lower  half  was  concealed  by  a  scarf  or  belt,  and  his 
bare  arms  were  adorned  with  bracelets.  His  finely  pro- 
portioned limbs  looked  as  if  molded  in  bronze,  so  smoothly 
were  the  powerful  muscles  covered  with  the  shining 
copper-colored  skin.  Sitting  here  among  those  who  were 
devoted  to  him,  he  looked  with  kind  and  fatherly  pride  at 
his  blooming  sons. 

*  Silk  was  certainly  known  in  the  time  of  the  Ptolemies.  The  trans- 
parent bo?)ibyx  tissues  of  Kos  were  celebrated.  Pariset,  Histoire  de  la 
Soie,  1863. 


UARDA. 


415 


The  lion  was  at  rest — but  nevertheless  he  was  a  lion, 
and  terrible  things  might  be  looked  for  when  he  should 
rouse  himself,  and  when  the  mighty  hand,  which  now  dis- 
pensed bread,  should  be  clenched  for  the  fight.  There 
was  nothing  mean  in  this  man,  and  yet  nothing  alarming  ; 
for,  if  his  eye  had  a  commanding  sparkle,  the  expression 
of  his  mouth  was  particularly  gentle  ;  and  the  deep  voice 
which  could  make  itself  heard  above  the  clash  of  fighting 
men,  could  also  assume  the  sweetest  and  most  winning 
tones.  His  education  had  not  only  made  him  well  aware 
of  his  greatness  and  power,  but  had  left  him  also  a 
genuine  man,  a  stranger  to  none  of  the  emotions  of  the 
human  soul. 

Behind  Pharaoh  stood  a  man,  younger  than  himself, 
who  gave  him  his  wine-cup  after  first  touching  it  with  his 
own  lips  ;  this  was  Mena,  the  king  s  charioteer  and  favorite 
companion.  His  figure  was  slight  and  yet  vigorous, 
supple  and  yet  dignified,  and  his  finely-formed  features 
and  frank  bright  eyes  were  full  at  once  of  self-respect  and 
of  benevolence.  Such  a  man  might  fail  in  reflection  and 
counsel,  but  would  be  admirable  as  an  honorable,  staunch 
and  faithful  friend. 

Among  the  princes,  Chamus  *  sat  nearest  to  the  king  ; 
he  was  the  eldest  of  his  sons,  and  while  still  young 
had  been  invested  with  the  dignity  of  high-priest  of  Mem- 
phis. The  curly-haired  Rameri,  who  had  been  rescued 
from  imprisonment — into  which  he  had  fallen  on  his 
journey  from  Egypt — had  been  assigned  a  place  with  the 
younger  princes  at  the  lowest  end  of  the  table. 

"  It  all  sounds  very  threatening  !  "  said  the  king.  "  But 
though  each  of  you  'croakers  speaks  the  truth,  your  love 
for  me  dims  your  sight.  In  fact,  all  that  Rameri  has  told 
me,  that  Bent-Anat  writes,  that  Mena  s  stud-keeper  says 
of  Ani,  and  that  comes  through  other  channels — amounts 
to  nothing  that  need  disturb  us.  I  know  your  uncle — I 
know  that  he  will  make  his  borrowed  throne  as  wide  as  he 
possibly  can  ;  but  when  we  return  home  he  will  be  quite 
content  to  sit  on  a  narrow  seat  again.    Great  enterprises 

*  He  is  named  Cha-em-Us  on  the  monuments,  /.  e.,  "  splendor  in 
Thebes."  He  became  the  Sam,  or  high-priest  of  Memphis.  His 
mummy  was  discovered  by  Mariette  in  the  tomb  of  Apis  at  Saqqarah 
during  his  excavations  of  the  Serapeum  at  Memphis. 


4I6  UARDA. 

and  daring  deeds  are  not  what  he  excels  in  ;  but  he  is  very 
apt  at  carrying  out  a  ready-made  system,  and,  therefore, 
I  chose  him  to  be  my  regent/' 

"  But  Ameni,"  said  Chamus,  bowing  respectfully  to  his 
father,  "seems  to  have  stirred  up  his  ambition,  and  to  sup- 
port him  with  his  advice.  The  chief  of  the  House  of  Seti 
is  a  man  of  great  ability,  and  at  least  half  of  the  priest- 
hood are  his  adherents. " 

"I  know  it,"  replied  the  king.  ' '  Their  lordships  owe 
lie  a  grudge  because  I  have  called  their  serfs  to  arms,  and 
they  want  them  to  till  their  acres.  A  pretty  sort  of  people 
they  have  sent  me  !  their  courage  flies  with  the  first  arrow. 
They  shall  guard  the  camp  to-morrow  ;  they  will  be  equal 
to  that  when  it  is  made  clear  to  their  understanding  that, 
if  they  let  the  tents  be  taken,  the  bread,  meat  and  wine- 
skins will  also  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  If  Kadesh 
is  taken  by  storm,  the  temples  of  the  Nile  shall  have  the 
greater  part  of  the  spoil,  and  you  yourself,  my  young  high- 
priest  of  Memphis,  shall  show  your  colleagues  that  Rame- 
ses  repays  in  bushels  that  which  he  has  taken  in  handfuls 
from  the  ministers  of  the  gods." 

"  Ameni  s  disaffection,"  replied  Chamus,  "has  a  deeper 
root  ;  a  mighty  spirit  like  his  seeks  and  finds  its  own 
way  " 

< '  But  their  lordships, "  interrupted  Rameses,  1 '  are  accus- 
tomed to  govern  the  king  too,  and  I— I  do  not  do  them 
credit.  I  rule  as  vicar  of  the  Lord  of  the  gods,  but— I 
myself  am  no  god,  though  they  attribute  to  me  the  honors 
of  a  divinity  ;  and  in  all  humility  of  heart  I  willingly  leave 
it  to  them  to  be  the  mediators  between  the  immortals  and 
me  or  my  people.  Human  affairs  certainly  I  choose  to 
manage  in  my  own  way.  And  now  no  more  of  them.  I 
cannot  bear  to  doubt  my  friends,  and  trustfulness  is  so 
dear,  so  essential  to  me,  that  I  must  indulge  in  it  even  if 
my  confidence  results  in  my  being  deceived." 

The  king  glanced  at  Mena,  who  handed  him  a  golden 
cup— which  he  emptied.  He  looked  round  at  the  splendid 
company,  and  then,  with  a  flash  of  his  grave  bright  eyes, 
he  added :  .  , 

"  And  if  I  am  betrayed — if  ten  such  as  Ameni  and  Am 
entice  my  people  into  a  snare— I  shall  return  home,  and 
will  tread  the  reptiles  into  dust." 


UARDA. 


His  deep  voice  rang  out  the  words,  as  if  he  were  *a  herald 
proclaiming  a  victorious  deed  of  arms.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken,  not  a  hand  moved,  when  he  ceased  speaking. 
Then  he  raised  his  cup,  and  said  : 

"It  is  well  before  the  battle  to  uplift  our  hearts  !  We 
have  done  great  deeds  ;  distant  nations  have  felt  our  hand  ; 
we  have  planted  our  pillars  of  conquest  by  their  rivers, 
and  graven  the  record  of  our  deeds  on  their  rocks.*  Your 
king  is  great  above  all  kings,  and  it  is  through  the  might 
of  the  gods,  and  your  valor — my  brave  comrades^  May 
to-morrow's  fight  bring  us  new  glory  !  May  the  immor- 
tals soon  bring  this  war  to  a  close  I  Empty  your  wine- 
cups  with  me — To  victory  and  a  speedy  return  home  in 
peace  !  " 

"  Victory  !  Victory  !  Long  life  to  the  Pharaoh  !  Strength 
and  health  !  "  cried  the  guests  of  the  king,  who,  as  he 
descended  from  his  throne,  cried  to  the  drinkers : 

"  Now,  rest  till  the  star  of  Isis  sets.  Then  follow  me  to 
prayer  at  the  altar  of  Anion,  and  then — to  battle." 
,  Fresh  cries  of  triumph  sounded  through  the  room,  while 
Rameses  gave  his  hand  with  a  few  words  of  encourage- 
ment to  each  of  his  sons  in  turn.  He  desired  the  two 
youngest,  Mernephtah  andRameri,  to  follow  him,  and 
quitting  the  banquet  with  them  and  Mena,  he  proceeded, 
under  the  escort  of  his  officers  and  guards,  who  bore 
staves  before  him,  with  golden  lilies  and  ostrich-feathers, 
to  his  sleeping  tent,  which  was  surrounded  by  a  corps 
$  elite  under  the  command  of  his  sons.  Before  entering  the 
tent  he  asked  for  some  pieces  of  meat,  and  gave  them 
with  his  own  hand  to  his  lions,  who  let  him  stroke  them 
like  tame  cats.  Then  he  glanced  round  the  stable,  patted 
the  sleek  necks  and  shoulders  of  his  favorite  horses,  and 
decided  that  "  Nura  "  f  and  "  Victory  to  Thebes  "  should 
bear  him  into  the  battle  on  the  morrow. 

When  he  had  gone  into  the  sleeping  tent,  he  desired 
his  attendants  to  leave  him  ;  he  signed  to  Mena  to  divest 
him  of  his  ornaments  and  his  arms,  and  called  to  him  his 

*  Herodotus  speaks  of  the  pictures  graven  on  the  rocks  in  the  provinces 
conquered  by  Rameses  II.,  in  memory  of  his  achievements.  He  saw 
two,  one  of  which  remains  on  a  rock  near  Beyrut. 

t  The  horses  driven  by  Rameses  at  the  battle  of  Kadesh  were  in  fact 
thus  named. 

27 


4i8 


UAkDA. 


youngest  sons,  who  were  waiting  respectfully  at  the  door 

of  the  tent. 

"Why  did  I  desire  you  to  accompany  me?"  he  asked 
them,  gravely.  Both  were  silent,  and  he  repeated  his 
question. 

"Because,"  said  Rameri  at  length,  "  you  observed  that 
all  was  not  quite  right  between  us  two." 

"And  because,"  continued  the  king.  "I  desire  that 
unity  should  exist  between  my  children.  You  will  have 
enemies  enough  to  fight  with  to-morrow,  but  friends  are 
not  often  to  be  found,  and  are  too  often  taken  from  us  by 
the  fortune  of  war.  We  ought  to  feel  no  anger  toward  the 
friend  we  may  lose,  but  expect  to  meet  him  lovingly  in  the 
other  world.  Speak,  Rameri,  what  has  caused  a  division 
between  you  ?  " 

"I  bear  him  no  ill-will,"  answered  Rameri.  "You 
lately  gave  me  the  sword  which  Mernephtah  has  there 
stuck  in  his  belt,  because  I  did  my  duty  well  in  the 
last  skirmish  with  the  enemy.  You  know  we  both  sleep  in 
the  same  tent,  and  yesterday,  when  I  drew  my  sword  out 
of  its  sheath  to  admire  the  fine  work  of  the  blade,  I  found 
that  another,  not  so  sharp,  had  been  put  in  its  place. " 

"I  had  only  exchanged  my  sword  for  his  in  fun,"  inter- 
rupted Mernephtah.  "But  he  can  never  take  a  joke,  and 
declares  I  want  to  wear  a  prize  that  I  have  not  earned  ; 
he  would  try,  he  said,  to  win  another  and  then  " 

"  I  have  heard  enough;  you  have  both  done  wrong," 
said  the  king.  "Even  in  fun,  Mernephtah,  you  should 
never  cheat  or  deceive.  I  did  so  once,  and  I  will  tell  you 
what  happened,  as  a  warning. 

"My  noble  mother,  Tuaa,  desired  me,  the  first  time  I 
went  into  Fenchu*  to  bring  her  a  pebble  from  the  shore 
near  Byblos,  where  the  body  of  Osiris  was  washed.  As 
we  returned  to  Thebes,  my  mother's  request  recurred  to 
my  mind  ;  I  was  young  and  thoughtless — I  picked  up  a 
stone  by  the  wayside,  took  it  with  me,  and  when  she 
asked  me  for  the  remembrance  from  Byblos  I  silently  gave 
her  the  pebble  from  Thebes.  She  was  delighted,  she 
showed  it  to  her  brothers  and  sisters,  and  laid  it  by  the 
statues  of  her  ancestors  ;  but  I  was  miserable  with  shame 
and  penitence,  and  at  last  I  secretly  took  away  the  stone, 

*  Phoenicia  j  on  monuments  of  the  eighteenth  dynasty. 


UARDA. 


419 


and  threw  it  into  the  water.  All  the  servants  were  called 
together,  and  strict  inquiry  was  made  as  to  the  theft  of  the 
stone;  then  I  could  hold  out  no  longer,  and  confessed 
everything.  No  one  punished  me,  and  yet  I  never  suf- 
fered more  severely  ;  from  that  time  I  have  never  deviated 
from  the  exact  truth  even  in  jest.  Take  the  lesson  to 
heart,  Mernephtah— you,  .Rameri,  take  back  your  sword, 
and,  believe  me,  life  brings  us  so  many  real  causes  of 
vexation  that  it  is  well  to  learn  early  to  pass  lightly  over 
little  things  if  you  do  not  wish  to  become  a  surly  "fellow 
like  the  pioneer  Paaker  ;  and  that  seems  far  from  likely 
with  a  gay,  reckless  temper  like  yours.  Now  shake  hands 
with  each  other." 

The  young  princes  went  up  to  each  other,  and  Rameri 
fell  on  his  brother's  neck  and  kissed  him.  The  king 
stroked  their  heads.  "Now  go  in  peace,"  he  said,  "and 
to-morrow  you  shall  both  strive  to  win  a  fresh  mark  of 
honor." 

When  his  sons  had  left  the  tent  Rameses  turned  to  his 
charioteer  and  said  : 

"I  have  to  speak  to  you  too  before  the  battle.  I  can 
read  your  soul  through  your  eyes,  and  it  seems  to  me  that 
things  have  gone  wrong  with  you  since  the  keeper  of  your 
stud  arrived  here.    What  has  happened  in  Thebes?  " 

Mena  looked  frankly  but  sadly  at  the  king  : 

"  My  step-mother,  Katu.ti,"  he  said,  "  is  managing  my 
estate  very  badly,  pledging  the  land  and  selling  the  cattle." 

"That  can  be  remedied,"  said  Rameses,  kindly.  "  You 
know  I  promised  to  grant  you  the  fulfillment  of  a  wish  if 
Nefert  trusted  you  as  perfectly  as  you  believe.  But  it 
appears  to  me  as  if  something  more  nearly  concerning  you 
than  this  were  wrong,  for  I  never  knew  you  anxious  about 
money  and  lands.  Speak  openly;  you  know  I  am  your 
father,  and  the  heart  and  the  eye  of  the  man  who  leads 
my  horse  to  battle  must  be  open  without  reserve  to  my 
gaze. ' 

Mena  kissed  the  king's  robe  ;  then  he  said  : 

"  Nefert  has  left  Katuti's  house,  and  as  thou  knowest, 

has  followed  thy  daughter,   Bent-Anat,   to    the  sacred 

mountain  and  Megiddo." 

"I  thought    the  change  was    a  good  one,"  replied 

Rameses.     "  I  le^ve  Bent-Anat  in  the  care  of  Bent-Anat, 


UARDA. 


for  she  needs  no  other  guardianship,  and  your  wife  can 
have  no  better  protector  than  Bent-Anat. " 

"  Certainly  not !  "  exclaimed  Mena,  with  sincere  empha- 
sis. "But  before  they  started  miserable  things  occurred. 
Thou  kno  west  that  before  she  married  me  she  was  betrothed 
to  her  cousin,  the  pioneer  Paaker,  and  he,  during  his  stay 
in  Thebes,  has  gone  in  and  out  of  my  house,  has  helped 
Katuti  with  an  enormous  sum  to  pay  the  debts  of  my  wild 
brother-in-law,  and— as  my  stud-keeper  saw  with  his  own 
eyes — has  made  presents  of  flowers  to  Nefert." 

The  king  smiled,  laid  his  hand  on  Mena's  shoulder,  and 
said,  as  he  looked  in  his  face  :  "Your  wife  will  trust  you, 
although  you  take  a  strange  woman  into  your  tent,  and 
you  allow  yourself  to  doubt  her  because  her  cousin  gives 
her  some  flowers!  Is  that  wise  or  just?  I  believe  you 
are  jealous  of  the  broad-shouldered  ruffian  that  some 
spiteful  wight  laid  in  the  nest  of  the  noble  Mohar,  his 
father." 

"No,  that  I  am  not,"  replied  Mena,  "nor  does  any 
doubt  of  Nefert  disturb  my  soul  ;  but  it  torments  me,  it 
nettles  me,  it  disgusts  me,  that  Paaker  of  all  men,  whom 
I  loathe  as  a  venomous  spider,  should  look  at  her  and  make 
her  presents  under  my  very  roof. " 

"He  who  looks  for  faith  must  give  faith,"  said  the  king. 
"And  must  not  I  myself  submit  to  accept  songs  of  praise 
from  the  most  contemptible  wretches?  Come,  smooth 
your  brow  ;  think  of  the  approaching  victory,  of  our  return 
home,  and  remember  that  you  have  less  to  forgive  Paaker 
than  he  to  forgive  you.  Now,  pray  go  and  see  to  the 
horses,  and  to-morrow  morning  let  me  see  you  on  jny 
chariot  full  of  cheerful  courage — as  I  love  to  see  you. " 

Mena  left  the  tent  and  went  to  the  stables  :  there  he  met 
Rameri,  who  was  waiting  to  speak  to  him.  The  eager  boy 
said  that  he  had  always  looked  up  to  him  and  loved 
him  as  a  brilliant  example,  but  that  lately  he  had  been 
perplexed  as  to  his  virtuous  fidelity,  for  he  had  been  in- 
formed that  Mena  had  taken  a  strange  woman  into  his 
tent— he  who  was  married  to  the  fairest  and  sweetest 
woman  in  Thebes. 

' '  I  have  spoken  to  you, "  he  concluded,  "  as  to  a  brother  ; 
for  I  know  that  she  would  die  if  she  heard  that  you  had 
insulted  and  disgraced  her.    Yes,  insulted  her  ;  for  such 


UARDA. 


a  public  breach  of  faith  is  an  insult  to  the  wife  of  an 
Egyptian.  Forgive  my  freedom  of  speech,  but  who  knows 
what  to-morrow  may  bring  forth — and  I  would  not  for 
worlds  go  out  to  battle,  thinking  evil  of  you." 

Mena  let  Rameri  speak  without  interruption,  and  then 
answered  : 

"You  are  as  frank  as  your  father,  and  have  learned 
from  him  to  hear  the  defendant  before  you  condemn  him. 
A  strange  maiden,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  the  Danaids,* 
lives  in  my  tent,  but  I  for  months  have  slept  at  the  door 
of  your  father  s,  and  I  have  not  once  entered  my  own 
since  she  has  been  there.  Now  sit  down  by  me,  and  let 
me  tell  you  how  it  all  happened.  We  had  pitched  the 
camp  before  Kadesh,  and  there  was  very  little  for  me  to 
do,  as  Rameses  was  still  laid  up  with  his  wound,  so  I  often 
passed  my  time  in  hunting  on  the  shores  of  the  lake.  One 
day  I  went  as  usual,  armed  only  with  my  bow  and  arrow, 
and  accompanied  by  my  greyhounds,  heedlessly  followed 
a  hare;  a  troop  of  Danaids  fell  upon  me,  bound  me  with 
cords,  and  led  me  into  their  camp.  There  I  was  led  be- 
fore the  judges  as  a  spy,  and  they  had  actually  condemned 
me,  and  the  rope  was  round  my  neck,  when  their  king 
came  up,  saw  me,  and  subjected  me  to  a  fresh  examina- 
tion. I  told  him  the  facts  at  full  length-^-how  I  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  his  people  while  following  up  my  game, 
and  not  as  an  enemy,  and  he  heard  me  favorably,  and 
granted  me  not  only  life  but  freedom.  He  knew  me  for  a 
noble,  and  treated  me  as  one,  inviting  me  to  feed  at  his 
own  table,  and  I  swore  in  my  heart,  when  he  let  me  go, 
that  I  would  make  him  some  return  for  his  generous 
conduct. 

''About  a  month  after,  we  succeeded  in  surprising  the 
Cheta  position,  and  the  Libyan  soldiers,  among  other 
spoil,  brought  away  the  Danaid  king's  only  daughter.  #  I 
had  behaved  valiantly,  and  when  we  came  to  the  division 

*  A  people  of  the  Greeks  at  the  time  of  the  Trojan  war.  They  are 
mentioned  among  the  nations  of  the  Mediterranean  allied  against 
Rameses  III.  The  Dardaneans,  inhabitants  of  the  Trojan  provinces  of 
Dardania,  and  whose  name  was  used  for  the  Trojans  generally,  are 
mentioned  with  the  people  of  Pisidia  (Pidasa),  Mysia  (Masa)  and  Ilion 
(Iliuna)  as  allies  of  the  Cheta,  in  the  Epos  of  Pentaur.  It  is  probable 
that  the  princes  of  the  islands  near  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  would  form 
alliances  with  those  of  western  Asia, 


422 


UARDA. 


of  the  spoils  Rameses  allowed  me  to  choose  first.  I  laid 
my  hand  on  the  maid,  the  daughter  of  my  deliverer  and 
host,  I  led  her  to  my  tent,  and  left  her  there  with  her 
waiting-women  till  peace  is  concluded,  and  I  can  restore 
her  to  her  father." 

4 'Forgive  my  doubts  !  "  cried  Rameri,  holding  out  his 
hand.  "Now  I  understand  why  the  king  so  particularly 
inquired  whether  Nefert  believed  in  your  constancy  to 
her." 

"  And  what  was  your  answer? "  asked  Mena. 

4 'That  she  thinks  of  you  day  and  night,  and  never  for 
an  instant  doubted  you.  My  father  seemed  delighted  too, 
and  he  said  to  Chamus  :  '  He  has  won  there  ! ' " 

"He  will  grant  me  some  great  favor,"  said  Mena,  in 
explanation,  "if,  when  she  hears  I  have  taken  a  strange 
maiden  to  my  tent,  her  confidence  in  me  is  not  shaken. 
Rameses  considers  it  simply  impossible,  but  I  know  that  I 
shall  win.    Why  !  she  must  trust  me." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Before  the  battle,  prayers  were  offered  and  victims 
sacrificed  for  each  division  of  the  army.  Images  of  the 
gods  were  borne  through  the  ranks  in  their  festal  barks, 
and  miraculous  relics  were  exhibited  to  the  soldiers  ;  her- 
alds announced  that  the  high-priest  had  found  favorable 
omens  in  the  victims  offered  by  the  king,  and  that  the 
haruspices  foretold  a  glorious  victory.  Each  Egyptian 
legion  turned  with  particular  faith  to  the  standard  which 
bore  the  image  of  the  sacred  animal  or  symbol  of  the 
province  where  it  had  been  levied,  but  each  soldier  was 
also  provided  with  charms  and  amulets  of  various  kinds  ; 
one  had  tied  to  his  neck  or  arm  a  magical  text  in  a  little 
bag,  another  the  mystic  preservative  eye,  and  most  of 
them  wore  a  scarabaeus  in  a  finger-ring.  Many  believed 
themselves  protected  by  having  a  few  hairs  or  feathers  of 
some  sacred  animal,  and  not  a  few  put  themselves  under 
the  protection  of  a  living  snake  or  beetle  carefully  cori- 


UARDA. 


423 


cealed  in  a  pocket  of  their  apron  or  in  their  little  provision- 
sack. 

When  the  king,  before  whom  were  carried  the  images  of 
the  divine  Triad  of  Thebes,  of  Menth,  the  God  of  War  and 
of  Necheb,  the  Goddess  of  Victory,  reviewed  the  ranks,  he 
was  borne  in  a  litter  on  the  shoulders  of  twenty-four 
noble  youths  ;  at  his  approach  the  whole  host  fell  on  their 
knees,  and  did  not  rise  till  Rameses,  descending  from  his 
position,  had,  in  the  presence  of  them  all,  burned  incense, 
and  made  a  libation  to  the  gods,  and  his  son  Chamus  had 
delivered  to  him,  in  the  name  of  the  immortals,  the  sym- 
bols of  life  and  power.  Finally,  the  priests  sang  a  choral 
hymn  to  the  Sun-god  Ra,  and  to  his  son  and  vicar  on 
earth,  the  king. 

Just  as  the  troops  were  put  in  motion,  the  paling  stars 
appeared  in  the  sky,  which  had  hitherto  been  covered  with 
thick  clouds ;  and  this  occurrence  was  regarded  as  a 
favorable  omen,  the  priests  declaring  to  the  army  that,  as 
the  coming  Ra  had  dispersed  the  clouds,  so  the  Pharaoh 
would  scatter  his  enemies. , 

With  no  sound  of  trumpet  or  drum,  so  as  not  to  arouse 
the  enemy,  the  foot-soldiers  went  forward  in  close  order, 
the  chariot  warriors,  each  in  his  light  two-wheeled  chariot 
drawn  by  two  horses,  formed  their  ranks,  and  the  king 
placed  himself  at  their  head.  On  each  side  of  the  gilt 
chariot  in  which  he  stood  a  case  was  fixed,  glittering  with 
precious  stones,  in  which  were  his  bows  and  arrows.  His 
noble  horses  were  richly  caparisoned;  purple  housings, 
embroidered  with  turquoise  beads,  covered  their  backs  and 
necks,  and  a  crown-shaped  ornament  was  fixed  on  their 
heads,  from  which  fluttered  a  bunch  of  white  ostrich 
feathers.  At  the  end  of  the  ebony  pole  of  the  chariot 
were  two  small  padded  yokes,  which  rested  on  the  necks 
of  the  horses,  who  pranced  in  front  as  if  playing  with  the 
light  vehicle,  pawed  the  earth  with  their  small  hoofs  and 
tossed  and  curved  their  slender  necks. 

The  king  wore  a  shirt  of  mail,  over  which  lay  the 
broad  purple  girdle  of  his  apron,  and  on  his  head  was  the 
crown  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt  ;  behind  him  stood 
Mena,  who,  with  his  left  hand,  tightly  held  the  reins,  and 
with  his  right  the  shield  which  was  to  protect  his  sove- 
reign in  the  fight. 


424 


UARDA. 


The  king  stood  like  a  storm-proof  oak,  andMena  by  his 
side  like  a  sapling  ash. 

The  eastern  horizon  was  rosy  with  the  approaching  sun- 
rise when  they  quitted  the  precincts  of  the  camp  ;  at  this 
moment  the  pioneer  Paaker  advanced  to  meet  the  king, 
threw  himself  on  the  ground  before  him,  kissed  the  earth, 
and,  in  answer  to  the  king  s  question  as  to  why  he  had 
come  without  his  brother,  told  him  that  Horus  was  taken 
suddenly  ill.  The  shades  of  dawn  concealed  from  the 
king  the  guilty  color,  which  changed  to  sallow  paleness, 
on  the  face  of  the  pioneer— unaccustomed  hitherto  to  lying 
and  treason. 

"  How  is  it  with  the  enemy  ? "  asked  Rameses. 

"He  is  aware,"  replied  Paaker,  "that  a  fight  is  im- 
pending, and  is  collecting  numberless  hosts  in  the  camps 
to  the  south  and  east  of  the  city.  If  thou  couldst  succeed 
in  falling  on  the  rear  from  the  north  of  Kadesh,  while  the 
foot  soldiers  seize  the  camp  of  the  Asiatics  from  the  south, 
the  fortress  will  be  thine  before  night.  The  mountain 
path  that  thou  must  follow,  so  as  not  to  be  discovered,  is 
not  a  bad  one." 

44  Are  you  ill  as  well  as  your  brother,  man  ?  "  asked  the 
king.     "Your  voice  trembles." 

"I  was  never  better,"  answered  the  Mohar. 

"Lead  the  way,"  commanded  the  king,  and  Paaker 
obeyed.  They  went  on  in  silence,  followed  by  the  vast 
troop  of  chariots  through  the  dewy  morning  air,  first  across 
the  plain,  and  then  into  the  mountain  range.  The  corps 
of  Ra,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  preceded  them  to 
clear  the  way  ;  they  crossed  the  narrow  bed  of  a  dry  tor- 
rent, and  then  a  broad  valley  opened  before  them,  extend- 
ing to  the  right  and  left  and  inclosed  by  ranges  of  mount- 
ains. 

"The  road  is  good,"  said  Rameses,  turning  to  Mena. 
"The  Mohar  has  learned  his  duties  from  his  father,  and 
his  horses  are  capital.  Now  he  leads  the  way,  and  points 
it  out  to  the  guards,  and  then  in  a  moment  he  is  close  to 
us  again."  >y 

"They  are  the  golden-bays  of  my  brsed,  said  Mena, 
and  the  veins  started  angrily  in  his  forehead.  "My  stud- 
master  tells  me  that  Katuti  sent  them  to  him  before  his 


UARDA. 


425 


departure.  They  were  intended  for  Nefert's  chariot,  and 
he  drives  them  to-day  to  defy  and  spite  me." 

"  You  have  the  wife — let  the  horses  go,"  said  Rameses, 
soothingly. 

Suddenly  a  blast  of  trumpets  rang-  through  the  morning 
air  ;  whence  it  came  could  not  be  seen,  and  yet  it  sounded 
close  at  hand. 

Rameses  started  up  and  took  his  battle-ax  from  his 
girdle,  the  horses  pricked  their  ears,  and  Mena  exclaimed  : 

"  Those  are  the  trumpets  of  the  Cheta  !  I  know  the 
sound." 

A  closed  wagon  with  four  wheels,  in  which  the  kings 
lions  were  conveyed,  followed  the  royal  chariot. 

"Let  loose  the  lions  !  "  cried  the  king,  who  heard  an 
echoing  war-cry,  and  soon  after  saw  the  vanguard  which 
had  preceded  him,  and  which  was  broken  up  by  the  char- 
iots of  the  enemy,  flying  toward  him  down  the  valley 
again. 

The  wild  beasts  shook  their  manes  and  sprang  in  front 
of  their  master's  chariot  with  loud  roars.  Mena  lashed 
his  whip,  the  horses  started  forward  and  rushed  with 
frantic  plunges  toward  the  fugitives,  who,  however,  could 
not  be  brought  to  a  stand-still,  or  rallied  by  the  king's 
voice — the  enemy  were  close  upon  them,  cutting  them 
down. 

"Where  is  Paaker  ?  "  asked  the  king.  But  the  pioneer 
had  vanished  as  completely  as  if  the  earth  had  swallowed 
him  and  his  chariot. 

The  flying  Egyptians  and  the  death-dealing  chariots 
of  the  enemy  came  nearer  and  nearer,  the  ground  trembled, 
the  tramp  of  hoofs  and  the  roar  of  wheels  sounded  louder 
and  louder,  like  the  roll  of  a  rapidly-approaching  storm. 

Then  Rameses  gave  out  a  war-cry,  that  rang  back 
from  the  cliffs  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left  like  the 
blast  of  a  trumpet  ;  his  chariot-guard  joined  in  the  shout — 
for  an  instant  the  flying  Egyptians  paused,  but  only  to 
rush  on  again  with  double  haste,  in  the  hope  of  escape  and 
safety  ;  suddenly  the  war-cry  of  the  enemy  was  heard 
behind  the  king,  mingling  with  the  trumpet-call  of  the 
Cheta,  and  out  from  a  cross-valley,  which  the  king  had 
passed  unheeded  by — and  into  which  Paaker  had  disap- 
peared—came an  innumerable  host  of  chariots  which, 


426  UARDA. 

before  the  king  could  retreat,  had  broken  through  the 
Egyptian  ranks,  and  cut  him  off  from  the  body  of  his 
army.  Behind  him  he  could  hear  the  roar  and  shock  of 
the  battle,  in  front  of  him  he  saw  the  fugitives,  the 
fallen  and  the  enemy  growing  each  instant  in  numbers 
and  fury.  He  saw  the  whole  danger,  and  drew  up  his 
powerful  form  as  if  to  prove  whether  it  were  an  equal 
match  for  such  a  foe.  Then,  raising  his  voice  to  such  a 
pitch  that  it  sounded  above  the  cries  and  groans  of  the 
fehtine  men,  the  words  of  command,  the  neighing  of  the 
horses,  the  crash  of  the  overthrown  chariots,  the  dull  whirr 
of  lances  and  swords,  their  heavy  blows  on  shields  and 
helmets,  and  the  whole  bewildering  tumult  of  the  battle— 
with  a  loud  shout  he  drew  his  bow,  and  his  first  arrow 
pierced  a  Cheta  chief. 

His  lions  sprang  forward,  and  carried  confusion  into 
the  hosts  that  were  crowding  down  upon  him,  for  many  of 
their  horses  became  unmanageable  at  the  roar  ot  the 
furious  brutes,  overthrew  the  chariots,  and  so  hemmed  in 
the  advance  of  the  troops  in  the  rear.  Rameses  sent  arrow 
after  arrow,  while  Mena  covered  him  with  the  shield  from 
the  shots  of  the  enemy.  His  horses  meanwhile  had  carried 
him  forward,  and  he  could  fell  the  foremost  of  the 
Asiatics  with  his  battle-ax;  close  by  his  side  fought 
Rameri  and  three  other  princes  ;  in  front  of  him  were  the 

ll0The  press  was  fearful,  and  the  raging  of  the  battle  wild 
and  deafening,  like  the  roar  of  the  surging  ocean  when  it 
is  hurled  bv  a  hurricane  against  a  rocky  coast 

Mena  seemed  to  be  in  two  places  at  once,  for,  while  he 
euided  the  horses  forward,  backward,  or  to  either  hand  as 
the  exigencies  of  the  position  demanded,  not  one  ot  the 
arrows  shot  at  the  king  touched  him.  His  eye  was  every- 
where, the  shield  always  ready,  and  not  an  eyelash  of  the 
vounsr  hero  trembled,  while  Rameses,  each  moment  more 
infuriated,  incited  his  lions  with  wild  war-cries,  and  with 
flashing  eyes  advanced  further  and  further  into  the  enemy  s 

raThree  arrows  aimed,  not  at  the  king  but  at  Mena  him- 
self were  sticking  in  the  charioteer's  shield  and  by  chance 
he  saw  written  on  the  shaft  of  one  of  them  the  words 
"Death  to  Mena." 


UARDA. 


427 


A  fourth  arrow  whizzed  past  him.  His  eye  followed 
its  flight,  and  as  he  marked  the  spot  whence  it  had 
come,  a  fifth  wounded  his  shoulder,  and  he  cried  out  to 
the  king  : 

"  We  are  betrayed  !  Look  over  there  !  Paaker  is  fight- 
ing with  the  Cheta. " 

Once  more  the  Mohar  had  bent  his  bow,  and  came  so 
near  to  the  king  s  chariot  that  he  could  be  heard  exclaim- 
ing in  a  hoarse  voice,  as  he  let  the  bowstring  snap, 
"Now  I  will  reckon  with  you— thief!  robber!  My 
bride  is  your  wife,  but  with  this  arrow  I  will  win  Mena's 
widow." 

The  arrow  cut  through  the  air,  and  fell  with  fearful 
force  on  the  charioteer  s  helmet ;  the  shield  fell  from  his 
grasp,  and  he  put  his  hand  to  his  head,  feeling  stunned  ; 
he  heard  Paaker's  laugh  of  triumph,  he  felt  another  of  his 
enemy's  arrows  cut  his  wrist,  and,  beside  himself  with 
rage,  he  flung  away  the  reins,  brandished  his  battle-ax,  and 
forgetting  himself  and  his  duty,  sprung  from  the  chariot 
and  rushed  upon  Paaker.  The  Mohar  awaited  him  with 
uplifted  sword  ;  his  lips  were  white,  his  eyes  bloodshot,  his 
wide  nostrils  trembled  like  those  of  an  overdriven  horse, 
and  foaming  and  hissing  he  flew  at  his  mortal  foe.  The 
king  saw  the  two  engaged  in  a  struggle,  but  he  could  not 
interfere,  for  the  reins  which  Mena  had  dropped  were 
dragging  on  the  ground,  and  his  ungoverned  horses, 
following  the  lions,  carried  him  madly  onward. 

Most  of  his  comrades  had  fallen,  the  battle  raged  all 
round  him,  but  Rameses  stood  as  firm  as  a  rock,  held  the 
shield  in  front  of  him,  and  swung  the  deadly  battle-ax  ;  he 
saw  Rameri  hastening  toward  him  with  his  horses,  the 
youth  was  fighting  like  a  hero,  and  Rameses  called  out  to 
encourage  him  :  "  Well  done  !  a  worthy  grandson  of  Seti  ! " 

'f  I  will  win  a  new  sword  !  "  cried  the  boy,  and  he  cleft 
the  skull  of  one  of  his  antagonists.  But  he  was  soon  sur- 
rounded by  the  chariots  of  the  enemy  ;  the  king  saw  the 
enemy  pull  down  the  young  prince's  horses,  and  all  his 
comrades — among  whom  were  many  of  the  best  warriors 
— turn  their  horses  in  flight. 

Then  one  of  the  lions  was  pierced  by  a  lance,  and  sank 
with  a  dying  roar  of  rage  and  pain  that  was  heard  above 
all  the  tumult.    The  king  himself  had  been  grazed  by  an 


428 


UARDA. 


arrow,  a  sword  stroke  had  shivered  his  shield,  and  hi»  last 
arrow  had  been  shot  away. 

Still  spreading  death  around  him,  he  saw  death  closing 
in  upon  him,  and,  without  giving  up  the  struggle,  he 
lifted  up  his  voice  in  fervent  prayer,  calling  on  Amon  for 
support  and  rescue. 

While  thus  in  the  sorest  need  he  was  addressing  himself 
to  the  Lords  of  Heaven,  a  tall  Egyptian  suddenly  appeared 
in  the  midst  of  the  struggle  and  turmoil  of  the  battle, 
seized  the  reins,  and  sprung  into  the  chariot  behind  the 
king,  to  whom  he  bowed  respectfully.  For  the  first  time 
Rameses  felt  a  thrill  of  fear.  Was  this  a  miracle  ?  Had 
Amon  heard  his  prayer  ? 

He  looked  half  fearfully  round  at  his  new  charioteer, 
and  when  he  fancied  he  recognized  the  features  of  the 
deceased  Mohar,  the  father  of  the  traitor  Paaker,  he 
believed  that  Amon  had  assumed  this  aspect,  and  had  come 
himself  to  save  him. 

"  Help  is  at  hand  !  "  cried  his  new  companion.  "  If  we 
hold  our  own  for  only  a  short  time  longer,  thou  art  saved, 
and  victory  is  ours." 

Then  once  more  Rameses  raised  his  war-cry,  felled  a 
Cheta,  who  was  standing  close  by  him,  to  the  ground  with 
a  blow  on  his  skull,  while  the  mysterious  supporter  by  his 
side,  who  covered  him  with  the  shield,  on  his  part  also 
dealt  many  terrible  strokes. 

Thus  some  long  minutes  passed  in  renewed  strife ;  then 
a  trumpet  sounded  above  the  roar  of  the  battle,  and  this 
time  Rameses  recognized  the  call  of  the  Egyptians  ;  from 
behind  a  low  ridge  on  his  right  rushed  some  thousands  of 
men  of  the  foot-legion  of  Ptah  who,  under  the  command 
of  Horus,  fell  upon  the  enemy's  flank.  They  saw  their 
king,  and  the  danger  he  was  in.  They  flung  themselves 
with  fury  on  the  foes  that  surrounded  him,  dealing  death 
as  they  advanced,  and  putting  the  Cheta  to  flight,  and 
soon  Rameses  saw  himself  safe,  and  protected  by  his  fol- 
lowers. 

But  his  mysterious  friend  in  need  had  vanished.  He 
had  been  hit  by  an  arrow,  and  had  fallen  to  the  earth — a 
quite  mortal  catastrophe  ;  but  Rameses  still  believed  that 
one  of  the  immortals  had  come  to  his  rescue. 

But  the  king  granted  no  long  respite  to  his  horses  and 


UARDA. 


429 


his  fighting-men  ;  he  turned  to  go  back  by  the  way  by 
which  he  had  come,  fell  upon  the  forces  which  divided 
him  from  the  main  army,  took  them  in  the  rear  while  they 
were  still  occupied  with  his  chariot-brigade  which  was 
already  giving  way,  and  took  most  of  the  Asiatics  pris- 
oners who  escaped  the  arrows  and  swords  of  the  Egyptians. 
Having  rejoined  the  main  body  of  the  troops,  he  pushed 
forward  across  the  plain  where  the  Asiatic  horse  and 
chariot-legions  were  engaged  with  the  Egyptian  swords- 
men, and  forced  the  enemy  back  upon  the  river  Orontes 
and  the  lake  of  Kadesh.  Nightfall  put  an  end  to  the  bat- 
tle, though  early  next  morning  the  struggle  was  renewed. 

Utter  discouragement  had  fallen  upon  the  Asiatic  allies, 
who  had  gone  into  battle  in  full  security  of  victory  ;  for  the 
pioneer  Paaker  had  betrayed  his  king  into  their  hands. 

When  the  Pharaoh  had  set  out,  the  best  chariot-warriors 
of  the  Cheta  were  drawn  up  in  a  spot  concealed  by  the 
city,  and  sent  forward  against  Rameses  through  the  north- 
ern opening  of  the  valley  by  which  he  was  to  pass,  while 
other  troops  of  approved  valor,  in  all  two  thousand  five 
hundred  chariots,  were  to  fall  upon  him  from  a  cross-valley 
where  they  took  up  their  position  during  the  night. 

These  tactics  had  been  successfully  carried  out,  and  not- 
withstanding the  Asiatics  had  suffered  a  severe  defeat- 
besides  losing  some  of  their  noblest  heroes,  among  them 
Titure,  their  chancellor,  and  Chiropasar,*  the  chronicler  of 
the  Cheta  king,  who  could  wield  the  sword  as  effectively 
as  the  pen,  and  who,  it  was  intended,  should  celebrate  the 
victory  of  the  allies,  and  perpetuate  its  glory  to  succeeding 
generations.  Rameses  had  killed  one  of  these  with  his 
own  hands,  and  his  unknown  companion  the  other,  and 
besides  these  many  other  brave  captains  of  the  enemy's 
troops.  The  king  was  greeted  as  a  god,  when  he  returned 
to  the  camp,  with  shouts  of  triumph  and  hymns  of  praise. 

Even  the  temple-servants,  and  the  miserable  troops 
from  Upper  Egypt — ground  down  by  the  long  war,  and 
brought  over  by  Ani — were  carried  away  by  the  universal 
enthusiasm,  and  joyfully  hailed  the  hero  and  king  who 
had  successfully  broken 'the  stiff  necks  of  his  enemies. 

The  next  duty  was  to  seek  out  the  dead  and  wounded  ; 

*  These  names  and  titles  occur  as  those  of  fallen  Chetas  on  the  pylon 
of  the  Ramesseum.  , 


UARDA. 


among  the  latter  was  Mena  ;  Rameri  also  was  missing, 
but  news  was  brought  next  day  that  he  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  and  he  was  immediately  exchanged 
for  the  princess  who  had  been  sheltered  in  Mena's  tent. 

Paaker  had  disappeared  ;  but  the  bays  which  he  had 
driven  into  the  battle  were  found  unhurt  in  front  of  his 
ruined  and  blood-sprinkled  chariot. 

The  Egyptians  were  masters  of  Kadesh,  and  Chetasar, 
the  king  of  the  Cheta,  sued  to  be  allowed  to  treat  for  peace, 
in  his  own  name  and  in  that  of  his  allies  ;  but  Rameses 
refused  to  grant  any  terms  till  he  had  returned  to  the  fron- 
tier of  Egypt.  The  conquered  peoples  had  no  choice,  and 
the  representative  of  the  Cheta  king — who  himself  was 
wounded — and  twelve  princes  of  the  principal  nations 
who  had  fought  against  Rameses,  were  forced  to  follow 
his  victorious  train.  Every  respect  was  shown  them,  and 
they  were  treated  as  the  king  himself,  but  they  were  none 
the  less  his  prisoners.  The  king  was  anxious  to  lose  no 
time,  for  sad  suspicion  filled  his  heart ;  a  shadow  hitherto 
unknown  to  his  bright  and  genial  nature  had  fallen  upon 
his  spirit. 

This  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  one  of  his  own 
people  had  betrayed  him  to  the  enemy.  Paakers  deed  had 
shaken  his  friendly  confidence,  and  in  his  petition  for 
peace  the  Cheta  prince  had  intimated  that  Rameses  might 
find  much  in  his  household  to  be  set  to  rights — perhaps 
with  a  strong  hand. 

The  king  felt  himself  more  than  equal  to  cope  with  Ani, 
the  priests,  and  all  whom  he  had  left  in  Egypt  ;  but  it 
grieved  him  to  be  obliged  to  feel  any  loss  of  confidence, 
and  it  was  harder  to  him  to  bear  than  any  reverse  of  fort- 
une.   It  urged  him  to  hasten  his  return  to  Egypt. 

There  was  another  thing  which  embittered  his  victory. 
Mena,  whom  he  loved  as  his  own  son,  who  understood  his 
lightest  sign,  who,  as  soon  as  he  mounted  his  chariot,  was 
there  by  his  side  like  a  part  of  himself — had  been  dis- 
missed from  his  office  by  the  judgment  of  the  commander- 
in-chief,  and  no  longer  drove  his  horses.  He  himself  had 
been  obliged  to  confirm  this  decision  as  just  and  even  mild, 
for  that  man  was  worthy  of  death  who  exposed  his  king  to 
danger  for  the  gratification  of  his  own  revenge. 

Rameses  had  not  seen  Mena  since  his  struggle  with 


UARDA. 


43* 


Paaker,  but  he  listened  anxiously  to  the  news  which 
was  brought  him  of  the  progress  of  his  sorely  wounded 
officer. 

The  cheerful,  decided  and  practical  nature  of  Rameses 
was  averse  to  every  kind  of  dreaminess  or  self-absorption, 
and  no  one  had  ever  seen  him,  even  in  hours  of  extreme 
weariness,  give  himself  up  to  vague  and  melancholy  brood- 
ing ;  but  now  he  would  often  sit  gazing  at  the  ground  in 
rapt  meditation,  and  start  like, an  awakened  sleeper  when 
his  reverie  was  disturbed  by  the  requirements  of  the  outer 
world  around  him.  A  hundred  times  before  he  had  looked 
death  in  the  face,  and  defied  it  as  he  would  any  other 
enemy,  but  now  it  seemed  as  though  he  felt  the  cold  hand 
of  the  mighty  adversary  on  his  heart.  He  could  not  for- 
get the  oppressive  sense  of  helplessness  which  had  seized 
him  when  he  had  felt  himself  at  the  mercy  of  the  unre- 
strained horses,  like  a  leaf  driven  by  the  wind,  and  then 
suddenly  saved  by  a  miracle. 

A  miracle  ?  Was  it  really  Amon  who  had  appeared  in 
human  form  at  his  call  ?  Was  he  indeed  a  son  of  the  gods, 
and  did  their  blood  flow  in  his  veins  ? 

The  immortals  had  shown  him  peculiar  favor,  but  still 
he  was  but  a  man  ;  that  he  realized  from  the  pain  in  his 
wound  and  the  treason  to  which  he  had  been  a  victim. 
He  felt  as  if  he  had  been  respited  on  the  very  scaffold. 
Yes,  he  was  a  man  like  all  other  men,  and  so  he  would  still 
be.  He  rejoiced  in  the  obscurity  that  veiled  his  future,  in 
the  many  weaknesses  which  he  had  in  common  with  those 
whom  he  loved,  and  even  in  the  feeling  that  he,  under  the 
same  conditions  of  life  as  his  contemporaries,  had  more 
responsibilities  than  they. 

Shortly  after  his  victory,  after  all  the  important  passes 
and  strongholds  had  been  conquered  by  his  troops,  he  set 
out  for  Egypt  with  his  train  and  the  vanquished  princes. 
He  sent  two  of  his  sons  to  Bent-Anat  at  Megiddo,  to  escort 
her  by  sea  to  Pelusium  ;  he  knew  that  the  commandant  of 
the  harbor  of  that  frontier  fortress,  at  the  easternmost 
limit  of  his  kingdom,  was  faithful  to  him,  and  he  ordered 
that  his  daughter  should  not  quit  the  ship  till  he  arrived 
to  secure  her  against  any  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  regent. 
A  large  part  of  the  material  of  war,  and  most  of  the 
wounded,  were  also  sent  to  Egypt  by  sea. 


432 


UARDA. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Neap.lv  three'  months  had  passed  since  the  battle^of 
Kadesh,  and  to-day  the  king-  was  expected,  on  his  way 
home  with  his  victorious  army,  at  Pelusium  the  strong- 
hold and  key  of  Egyptian  dominion  in  the  east.  Splendid 
preparations  had  been  made  for  his  reception,  and  the  man 
who  took  the  lead  in  the  festive  arrangements  with  a  zeal 
that  was  doubly  effective  from  his  composed  demeanor 
was  no  less  a  person  than  the  Regent  Ani. 

His  chariot  was  to  be  seen  every  where  :  now  he  was  with 
the  workmen,  who  were  to  decorate  triumphal  arches  with 
fresh  flowers  ;  now  with  the  slaves,  who  were  hanging  gar- 
lands on  the  wooden  lions  erected  on  the  road  for  this  great 
occasion  ;  now — and  this  detained  him  longest — he  watched 
the  progress  of  the  immense  palace  which  was  being  rap- 
idly constructed  of  wood  on  the  site  where  formerly  the 
camp  of  the  Hyksos  had  stood,*  in  which  the  actual  cere- 
mony of  receiving  the  king  was  to  take  place,  and  where 
the  Pharaoh  and  his  immediate  followers  were  to  reside. 
It  had  been  found  possible,  by  employing  several  thousand 
laborers,  to  erect  this  magnificent  structure  in  a  few 
weeks, f  and  nothing  was  lacking  to  it  that  could  be 
desired,  even  by  a  king  so  accustomed  as  Rameses  to 
luxury  and  splendor.  A  high  exterior  flight  of  steps  led 
from  the  garden— which  had  been  created  out  of  a  waste 
—to  the  vestibule,  out  of  which  the  banqueting-hall 
opened. 

This  was  of  unusual  height,  and  had  a  vaulted  wooden 
ceiling,  which  was  painted  blue  and  sprinkled  with  stars, 

*  Pelusium  is  the  Abaris  of  Manetho,  traces  of  the  ancient  walls  with 
fort-like  projections  still  remain.  According  to  Strabo  its  name  was  de- 
rived from  "pelos,"  meaning  the  mud  or  marsh  city. 

t  Herodotus  speaks  of  this  wooden  palace  as  having  been  built  at 
Daphnae;  Diodorus  at  Pelusium.  I  cannot  agree  with  those  who  think 
that  the  conspiracy  of  the  regent  occurred  under  Rameses  III.,  and  not 
under  Rameses  II.  Sesostris.  No  doubt  there  was  a  petty  conspiracy  in 
the  time  of  Rameses  III.  to  place  the  king's  brother  on  the  throne,  but 
these  palace-plots  are  spoken  of  elsewhere  and  were  not  infrequent. 


UARDA. 


433 


to  represent  the  night  heavens,  and  which  was  supported 
on  pillars  carved,  some  in  the-  form  of  date-palms,  and 
some  like  cedars  of  Lebanon  ;  the  leaves  and  twigs  con- 
sisted of  artfully  fastened  and  colored  tissue  ;  elegant  fes- 
toons of  bluish  gauze  were  stretched  from  pillar  to  pillar 
across  the  hall,  and  in  the  center  of  the  eastern  wall  they 
were  attached  to  a  large  shell-shaped  canopy  extending 
over  the  throne  of  the  king,  which  was  decorated  with 
pieces  of  green  and  blue  glass,  of  mother  of  pearl,  of  shin- 
ing plates  of  mica,  and  other  sparkling  objects. 

The  throne  itself  had  the  shape  of  a  buckler,  guarded 
by  two  lions,  which  rested  on  each  side  of  it  and  formed 
the  arms,  and  supported  on  the  backs  of  four  Asiatic  cap- 
tives who  crouched  beneath  its  weight.  Thick  carpets, 
which  seemed  to  have  transported  the  sea-shore  on  to  the 
dry  land — for  their  pale  blue  ground  was  strewn  with  a 
variety  of  shells,  fishes,  and  water  plants — covered  the 
floor  of  the  banqueting-hall,  in  which  three  hundred  seats 
were  placed  by  the  tables,  for  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom 
and  the  officers  of  the  troops. 

Above  all  this  splendor  hung  a  thousand  lamps,  shaped 
like  lilies  and  tulips,  and  in  the  entrance  hall  stood  a  huge 
basket  of  roses  to  be  strewn  before  the  king  when  he 
should  arrive. 

Even  the  bedrooms  for  the  king  and  his  suite  were 
splendidly  decorated ;  finely  embroidered  purple  stuffs 
covered  the  walls,  a  light  cloud  of  pale-blue  gauze  hung 
across  the  ceiling,  and  giraffe  skins  were  laid  instead  of 
carpets  on  the  floors. 

The  barracks  intended  for  the  soldiers  and  body-guard 
stood  nearer  to  the  city,  as  well  as  the  stable  buildings, 
which  were  divided  from  the  palace  by  the  garden  which 
surrounded  it.  A  separate  pavilion,  gilt  and  wreathed 
with  flowers,  was  erected  to  receive  the  horses  which  had 
carried  the  king  through  the  battle,  and  which  he  had 
dedicated  to  the  Sun-god. 

The  Regent  Ani,  accompanied  by  Katuti,  was  going 
through  the  whole  "of  these  slightly-built  structures. 

"  It  seems  to  me  all  quite  complete/'  said  the  widow. 

"Only  one  thing  I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  about," 
replied  Ani,  "whether  most  to  admire  your  inventive 
genius  or  your  exquisite  taste, " 
28 


434 


UARDA. 


"Oh!  let  that  pass,"  said  Katuti,  smiling.  "If  any- 
thing deserves  your  praise  it  is  my  anxiety  to  serve  you. 
How  many  things  had  to  be  considered  before  this  struct- 
ure at  last  stood  complete  on  this  marshy  spot  where  the 
air  seemed  alive  with  disgusting  insects — and  now  it  is 
finished  how  long  will  it  last  ?  " 

Ani  looked  down.     "  How  long  ?  "  he  repeated. 

Then  he  continued:  "There  is  a  great  risk  already  of 
the  plot  miscarrying.  Ameni  has  grown  cool,  and  will 
stir  no  further  in  the  matter;  the  troops  on.  which  I 
counted  are  perhaps  still  faithful  to  me,  but  much  too 
weak  ;  the  Hebrews,  who  tend  their  flocks  here,  and 
whom  I  gained  over  by  liberating  them  from  forced 
labor,  have  never  borne  arms.  And  you  know  the  people. 
They  will  kiss  the  feet  of  the  conqueror  if  they  have  to 
wade  up  to  them  through  the  blood  of  their  children. 
Besides — as  it  happens — the  hawk  which  old  Hekt  keeps  as 
representing  me  is  to-day  pining  and  sick  " 

"  It  will  be  all  the  prouder  and  brighter  to-morrow  if 
you  are  a  man  !  "  exclaimed  Katuti,  and  her  eyes  sparkled 
with  scorn.  "You  cannot  now  retreat.  Here  in  Pelu- 
sium  you  welcome  Rameses  as  if  he  were  a  god,  and  he 
accepts  the  honor.  I  know  the  king  ;  he  is  too  proud  to 
be  distrustful,  and  so  conceited  that  he  can  never  believe 
himself  deceived  in  any  man,  either  friend  or  foe.  The 
man  whom  he  appointed  to  be  his  regent,  whom  he  desig- 
nated as  the  worthiest  in  the  land,  he  will  most  unwill- 
ingly condemn.  To-day  you  still  have  the  ear  of  the  king  ; 
to-morrow  he  will  listen  to  your  enemies,  and  too  much 
has  occurred  in  Thebes  to  be  blotted  out.  You  are  in  the 
position  of  a  lion  who  has  his  keeper  on  one  side,  and  the 
bars  of  his  cage  on  the  other.  If  you  let  the  moment  pass 
without  striking  you  will  remain  in  the  cage ;  but  if  you 
act  and  show  yourself  a  lion  your  keepers  are  done  for !  " 

"  You  urge  me  on  and  on,"  said  Ani.  "But  suppos- 
ing your  plan  were  to  fail,  as  Paaker's  well-considered 
plot  failed  ? " 

' '  Then  you  are  no  worse  off  than  you  are  now, "  answered 
Katuti.  "The  gods  rule  the  elements,  not  men.  Is  it 
likely  that  you  should  finish  so  beautiful  a  structure  with 
such  care  only  to  destroy  it?  And  we  have  no  accom- 
plices, and  need  none." 


UARDA. 


435 


"  But  who  shall  set  the  brand  to  the  room  which  Nemu 
and  the  slave  have  filled  with  straw  and  pitch  ?  "  asked 
Ani. 

"I,"  said  Katuti,  decidedly.     "And  one  who  has  noth- 
ing to  look  for  from  Rameses." 
"Who  is  that?" 
"  Paaker." 

"  Is  the  Mohar  here  ? "  asked  the  regent,  surprised. 

"You  yourself  have  seen  him." 

"You  are  mistaken/'  said  Ani.     "  I  should  " 

"Do  you  recollect  the  one-eyed,  gray-haired  black  man, 
who  yesterday  brought  me  a  letter  ?  That  was  my  sister's 
son." 

The  regent  struck  his  forehead:  "Poor  wretch!"  he 
muttered. 

"He  is  frightfully  altered,"  said  Katuti.  "He  need 
not  have  blackened  his  face,  for  his  own  mother  would 
not  know  him  again.  He  lost  an  eye  in  his  fight  with 
Mena,  wTho  also  wounded  him  in  the  lungs  with  a  thrust 
of  his  sword  so  that  he  breathes  and  speaks  with  difficulty, 
his  broad  shoulders  have  lost  their  flesh,  and  the  fine  legs 
he  swaggered  about  on  have  shrunk  as  thin  as  a  negro's. 
I  let  him  pass  as  my  servant  without  any  hesitation  or 
misgiving.  He  does  not  yet  know  of  my  purpose,  but  I 
am  sure  that  he  would  help  us  if  a  thousand  deaths 
threatened  him.  For  God  s  sake  put  aside  all  doubts  and 
fears  !  We  will  shake  the  tree  for  you,  if  you  will  only 
hold  out  your  hand  to-morrow  to  pick  up  the  fruit. 
Only  one  thing  I  must  beg.  Command  the  head  butler 
not  to  stint  the  wine,  so  that  the  guards  may  give  us  no 
trouble.  1  know  that  you  gave  the  order  that  only  three 
of  the  five  ships  which  brought  the  contents  of  your  wine 
lofts  should  be  unloaded.  I  should  have  thought  that 
the  future  king  of  Egypt  might  have  been  less  anxious  to 
save  !  " 

Katuti's  lip  curled  with  contempt  as  she  spoke  the  last 
words.    Ani  observed  this  and  said  : 

"You  think  I  am  timid!  Well,  I  confess  I  would  far 
rather  that  much  which  I  have  done  at  your  instigation 
could  be  undone.  I  would  willingly  renounce  this  new 
plot,  though  we  so  carefully  planned  it  when  we  built  and 
decorated  this  palace.    I  will  sacrifice  the  wine  ;  there  are 


436 


UARDA. 


jars  of  wine  there  that  were  old  in  my  father's  time — but 
it  must  be  so  !  You  are  right  !  Many  things  have 
occurred  which  the  king  will  not  forgive  !  You  are  right, 
you  are  right — do  what  seems  good  to  you.  I  will  retire 
after  the  feast  to  the  Ethiopian  camp." 

' '  They  will  hail  you  as  king  as  soon  as  the  usurpers 
have  fallen  in  the  flames/'  cried  Katuti.  "If  only  a  few 
set  the  example,  the  others  will  take  up  the  cry,  and  even 
though  you  have  offended  Ameni  he  will  attach  himself 
to  you  rather  than  to  Rameses.  Here  he  comes,  and  I 
already  see  the  standards  in  the  distance. " 

"They  are  coming!"  said  the  regent.  "One  thing 
more  !  Pray  see  yourself  that  the  Princess  Bent-Anat 
goes  to  the  rooms  intended  for  her  ;  she  must  not  be 
injured  !  " 

"Still  Bent-Anat?"  said  Katuti,  with  a  smile  full  of 
meaning  but  without  bitterness.  "Be  easy,  her  rooms 
are  on  the  ground  floor,  and  she  shall  be  warned  in 
time." 

Ani  turned  to  leave  her  ;  he  glanced  once  more  at  the 
great  hall,  and  said  with  a  sigh,  "  My  heart  is  heavy — I 
wish  this  day  and  this  night  were  over  !  " 

"You  are  like  this  grand  hall,"  said  Katuti,  smiling, 
"  which  is  now  empty,  almost  dismal  ;  but  this  evening, 
when  it  is  crowded  with  guests,  it  will  look  very  different. 
You  were  born"  to  be  a  king,  and  yet  are  not  a  king  ;  you 
will  not  be  quite  yourself  till  the  crown  and  scepter  are 
your  own." 

Ani  smiled  too,  thanked  her,  and  left  her  ;  but  Katuti 
said  to  herself  : 

< '  Bent-Anat  may  burn  with  the  rest ;  I  have  no  intention 
of  sharing  my  power  with  her  !  " 

Crowds  of  men  and  women  from  all  parts  had  thronged 
to  Pelusium,  to  welcome  the  conqueror  and  his  victorious 
army  on  the  frontier.*  Every  great  temple-college  had 
sent  a  deputation  to  meet  Rameses,  that  from  the 
Necropolis  consisting  of  five  members  with  Ameni  and 
old  Gag-abu  at  their  head.    The  white-robed  ministers  of 

o 

*  A  fine  picture  of  such  a  festival,  in  honor  of  the  father  of  this  king 
when  he  returned  from  Syria,  still  exists  on  the  north  wall  of  the  Temple 
of  Karnak. 


UARDA. 


437 


the  gods  marched  in  solemn  procession  toward  the  bridge 
which  lay  across  the  eastern — Pelusiac — arm  of  the  Nile, 
and  led  to  Egypt  proper — the  land  fertilized  by  the  waters 
of  the  sacred  stream.  * 

The  deputation  from  the  temple  of  Memphis  led  the 
procession  ;  this  temple  had  been  founded  by  Mena,  the 
first  king  who  wore  the  united  crowns  of  Upper  and  Lower 
Egypt,  and  Chamus,  the  king's  son,  was  the  high  priest. 
The  deputation  from  the  not  less  important  temple  of 
Heliopolis  came  next,  and  was  followed  by  the  representa- 
tives of  the  Necropolis  of  Thebes. 

A  few  only  of  the  members  of  these  deputations  wore 
the  modest  white  robe  of  the  simple  priest  ;  most  of  them 
were  invested  with  the  panther-skin  which  was  worn  by 
the  prophets.  Each  bore  a  staff  decorated  with  roses, 
lilies  and  green  branches,  and  many  carried  censers  in  the 
form  of  a  golden  arm  with  incense  in  the  hollow  of  the 
hand,  to  be  burnt  before  the  king.  Among  the  deputies 
from  the  priesthood  at  Thebes  were  several  women  of 
high  rank,  who  served  in  the  worship  of  this  god,  and 
among  them  was  Katuti,  who  by  the  particular  desire  of 
the  regent  had  lately  been  admitted  to  this  noble  sister- 
hood, f 

Ameni  walked  thoughtfully  by  the  side  of  the  prophet 
Gagabu. 

"  How  differently  everything  has  happened  from  what 
we  hoped  and  intended  !  "  said  Gagabu,  in  a  low  voice. 
"We  are  like  ambassadors  with  sealed  credentials — who 
can  tell  their  contents  ?  " 

"I  welcome  Rameses  heartily  and  joyfully,  "said  Ameni. 
"  After  that  which  happened  to  him  at  Kadesh  he  will 
come  home  a  very  different  man  to  what  he  was  when  he 
set  out.  He  knows  now  what  he  owes  to  Amon.  His 
favorite  son  was  already  at  the  head  of  the  ministers  of 
the  temple  at  Memphis,  and  he  has  vowed  to  build  mag- 

*  According  to  Herodotus,  the  oracle  of  Amon  declared  to  the  in- 
habitants of  Marca  and  Apis  that  all  the  land  watered  by  the  inundations 
of  the  Nile  was  Egypt 

t  The  so-called  Pallakidai,  whom  we  frequently  hear  of  as  devoted  to 
the  service  of  Amon  but  sometimes  also  to  that  of  the  goddesses  Isis  and 
Bast.  Although  they  are  called  Virgins  on  the  tablet  of  Tanis  they  were 
frequently  married,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  Katuti  should  not  have 
belonged  to  them. 


438  UARDA. 

nificent  temples  and  to  bring  splendid  offerings  to  the  im- 
mortals.   And  Rameses  keeps  his  word  better  than  that 
smiling  simpleton  in  the  chariot  yonder/' 
"Still  I  am  sorry  for  Ani,"  said  Gagabu. 
"  The  Pharaoh  will  not  punish  him — certainly  not, 
replied  the  high-priest.     "And  he  will  have  nothing  to 
fear  from  Ani ;  he  is  a  feeble  reed,  the  powerless  sport  of 
every  wind." 

"And  yet  you  hoped  for  great  things  from  him  ! 
"Not  from  him,   but  through  him— with  us  for  his 
guides,"  replied  Ameni,  in  a  low  voice,  but  with  emphasis. 
"  It  is  his  own  fault  that  I  have  abandoned  his  cause.  Our 
first  wish— to  spare  the  poet  Pentaur— he  would  not  re- 
spect and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  break  his  oath,  to  betray 
us  and  to  sacrifice  one  of  the  noblest  of  God's  creatures, 
as' the  poet  was,  to  gratify  a  petty  grudge.    It  is  harder  to 
fio-ht  against  cunning  weakness  than  against  honest  enmity. 
Shall  we  reward  the  man  who  has  deprived  the  world  of 
Pentaur  by  giving  him  a  crown  ?    It  is  hard  to  quit  the 
trodden  way,  and  seek  a  better— to  give  up  a  -  half-exe- 
cuted plan  and  take  a  more  promising  one  ;  it  is  hard,  _  I 
say  for  the  individual  man,  and  makes  him  seem  fickle  m 
the  eyes  of  others  ;  but  we  cannot  see  to  the  right  hand  and 
the  left  and.  if  we  pursue  a  great  end  we  cannot  remain 
within  the  narrow  limits  which  are  set  by  law  and  custom 
to  the  actions  of  private  individuals.    We  draw  back  just 
as  we  seem  to  have  reached  the  goal,   we  let  him  fall 
whom  we  had  raised,  and  lift  him,  whom  we  had  stricken 
to  the  earth,  to  the  pinnacle  of  glory,  in  short  we  profess— 
and  for  thousands  of  years  have  professed— the  doctrine 
that  every  path  is  a  right  one  that  leads  to  the  great  end 
of  securing  to  the  priesthood  the  supreme  power  m  the 
land     Rameses,  saved  by  a  miracle,  vowing  temples  to 
the  gods,  will  for  the  future  exhaust  his  restless  spirit  not 
in  battle' as  a  warrior,  but  in  building  as  an  architect.  He 
will  make  use  of  us,  and  we  can  lead  the  man  who  needs 
us     So  I  now  hail  the  son  of  Seti  with  sincere  joy." 

Ameni  was  still  speaking  when  the  flags  were  hoisted 
on  the  standards  by  the  triumphal  arches,  clouds  of  dust 
rolled  up  on  the  further  shore  of  the  Nile,  and  the  blare  of 
trumpets  was  heard.  # 

First  came  the  horses  which  had   carried  Rameses 


UARDA. 


439 


through  the  fight,  with  the  king  himself,  who  drove  them. 
His  eyes  sparkled  with  joyful  triumph  as  the  people  on 
the  further  side  of  the  bridge  received  him  with  shouts  of 
joy,  and  the  vast  multitude  hailed  him  with  wild  enthu- 
siasm and  tears  of  emotion,  strewing  in  his  path  the  spoils 
of  their  gardens — flowers,  garlands,  and  palm-branches. 

Ani  marched  at  the  head  of  the  procession  that  went 
forth  to  meet  him  ;  he  humbly  threw  himself  in  the  dust 
before  the  horses,  kissed  the  ground,  and  then  presented 
to  the  king  the  scepter  that  had  been  intrusted  to  him, 
lying  on  a  silk  cushion.  The  king  received  it  graciously, 
and  when  Ani  took  his  robe  to  kiss  it,  the  king  bent  down 
toward  him,  and  touching  the  regent's  forehead  with  his 
lips,  desired  him  to  take  the  place  by  his  side  in  the 
chariot  and  fill  the  office  of  charioteer. 

The  kings  eyes  were  moist  with  grateful  emotion.  He 
had  not  been  deceived,  and  he  could  re-enter  the  country 
for  whose  greatness  and  welfare  alone  he  lived,  as  a  father, 
loving  and  beloved,  and  not  as  a  master  to  judge  and  pun- 
ish. He  was  deeply  moved  as  he  accepted  the  greetings 
of  the  priests,  and  with  them  offered  up  a  public  prayer. 
Then  he  was  conducted  to  the  splendid  structure  which 
had  been  prepared  for  him,  gayly  mounted  the  outside 
steps,  and  from  the  topmost  stair  bowed  to  his  innumer- 
able crowd  of  subjects;  and  while  he  awaited  the  pro- 
cession from  the  harbor  which  escorted  Bent-Anat  in  her 
litter,  he  inspected  the  thousand  decorated  bulls  and  an- 
telopes which  were  to  be  slaughtered  as  a  thank-offering 
to  the  gods,  the  tame  lions  and  leopards,  the  rare  trees  in 
whose  branches  perched  gayly-colored  birds,  the  giraffes, 
and  chariots  to  which  ostriches  were  harnessed,  which  all 
marched  past  him  in  a  long  array. 

Rameses  embraced  his  daughter  before  all  the  people  ; 
he  felt  as  if  he  must  admit  his  subjects  to  the  fullest  sym- 
pathy in  the  happiness  and  deep  thankfulness  which 
filled  his  soul.  His  favorite  child  had  never  seemed  to 
him  so  beautiful  as  this  day,  and  he  realized  with  deep 
emotion  her  strong  resemblance  to  his  lost  wife.* 

Nefert  had  accompanied  her  royal  friend  as  fan-bearer, 
and  she  knelt  before  the  king  while  he  gave  himself  up  to 


*  Her  name  was  Isis  Nefert. 


440 


UARDA. 


the  delight  of  meeting  his  daughter.  Then  he  observed 
her,  and  kindly  desired  her  to  rise.  "How  much/'  he 
said,  "I  am  feeling  to-day  for  the  first  time!  I  have 
already  learned  that  what  I  formerly  thought  of  as  the 
highest  happiness  is  capable  of  a  yet  higher  pitch,  and  I 
now  perceive  that  the  most  beautiful  is  capable  of  growing 
to  greater  beauty  !    A  sun  has  grown  from  Mena's  star." 

Rameses,  as  he  spoke,  remembered  his  charioteer  ;  for 
a  moment  his  brow  was  clouded,  and  he  cast  down  his 
eyes,  and  bent  his  head  in  thought. 

Bent-Anat  well  knew  this  gesture  of  her  father's;  it 
was  the  omen  of  some  kindly,  often  sportive  suggestion, 
such  as  he  loved  to  surprise  his  friends  with. 

He  reflected  longer  than  usual ;  at  last  he  looked  up, 
and  his  full  eyes  rested  lovingly  on  his  daughter' as  he 
asked  her : 

"What  did  your  friend  say  when  she  heard  that  her 
husband  had  taken  a  pretty  stranger  into  his  tent,  and 
harbored  her  there  for  months  ?  Tell  me  the  whole  truth 
of  it,  Bent-Anat." 

"I  am  indebted  to  this  deed  of  Mena's,  which  must  cer- 
tainly be  quite  excusable  if  you  can  smile  when  you  speak 
of  it, "  said  the  princess,  "for  it  was  the  cause  of  his  wife's 
coming  to  me.  Her  mother  blamed  her  husband  with 
bitter  severity,  but  she  would  not  cease  to  believe  in  him, 
and  left  her  house  because  it  was  impossible  to  her  to 
endure  to  hear  him  blamed." 

"  Is  this  the  fact  ? "  asked  Rameses. 

Nefert  bowed  her  pretty  head,  and  two  tears  ran  down 
her  blushing  cheeks. 

"How  good  a  man  must  he  be,"  cried  the  king,  "on 
whom  the  gods  bestow  such  happiness  !  My  lord  cham- 
berlain, inform  Mena  that  I  require  his  services  at  dinner 
to-day — as  before  the  battle  at  Kadesh.  He  flung  away 
the  reins  in  the  fight  when  he  saw  his  enemy,  and  we  shall 
see  if  he  can  keep  from  flinging  down  the  beaker  when, 
with  his  own  eyes,  he  sees  his  beloved  wife  sitting  at  the 
table.    You-  ladies  will  join  me  at  the  banquet." 

Nefert  sank  on  her  knees  before  the  king  ;  but  he  turned 
from  her  to  speak  to  the  nobles  and  officers  who  had  come 
to  meet  him,  and  then  proceeded  to  the  temple  to  assist  at 
the  slaughter  of  the  victims,  and  to  solemnly  renew  his 


UARDA. 


441 


vow  in  the  presence  of  the  priests  and  the  people,  to  erect 
a  magnificent  temple  in  Thebes  as  a  thank-offering  for  his 
preservation  from  death.  He  was  received  with  rapturous 
enthusiasm  ;  his  road  led  to  the  harbor,  past  the  tents  in 
which  lay  the  wounded,  who  had  been  brought  home  to 
Egypt  by  ship,  and  he  greeted  them  graciously  from  his 
chariot. 

Ani  again  acted  as  his  charioteer ;  they  drove  slowly 
through  the  long  ranks  of  invalids  and  convalescents,  but 
suddenly  Ani  gave  the  reins  an  involuntary  pull,  the 
horses  reared,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  soothed 
them  to  a  steady  pace  again. 

Rameses  looked  round  in  anxious  surprise,  for  at  the 
moment  when  the  horses  had  started,  he  too  had  felt  an 
agitating  thrill — he  thought  he  had  caught  sight  of  his 
preserver  at  Kadesh. 

Had  the  sight  of  a  god  struck  terror  into  the  horses  ? 
Was  he  the  victim  of  a  delusion  ?  or  was  his  preserver  a 
man  of  flesh  and  blood,  who  had  come  home  from  the 
battle-field  among  the  wounded  ? 

The  man  who  stood  by  his  side,  and  held  the  reins, 
could  have  informed  him,  for  Ani  had  recognized  Pen- 
taur,  and  in  his  horror  had  given  the  reins  a  perilous 
jerk. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

The  king  did  not  return  to  the  great  pavilion  till  after 
sundown  ;  the  banqueting-hall,  illuminated  with  a  thou- 
sand lamps,  was  now  filled  with  the  gay  crowd  of  guests 
who  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  king.  All  bowed  before 
him,  as  he  entered,  more  or  less  low,  each  according 
to  his  rank  ;  he  immediately  seated  himself  on  his  throne, 
surrounded  by  his  children  in  a  wide  semicircle,  and  his 
officers  and  retainers  all  passed  before  him  ;  for  each  he  had 
a  kindly  word  or  glance,  winning  respect  from  all,  and 
filling  every  one  with  joy  and  hope. 

"The  only  really  divine  attribute  of  my  royal  condition," 
said  he  to  himself,  "  is  that  it  is  so  easy  to  a  king  to  make 
men  happy.    My  predecessors  chose  the  poisonous  Urseus 


442 


UARDA. 


as  the  emblem  of  their  authority,  for  we  can  cause  death 
as  quickly  and  certainly  as  the  venomous  snake  ;  but  the 
power  of  giving  happiness  dwells  on  our  own  lips,  and  in 
our  own  eyes,  and  we  need  some  instrument  when  we 
decree  death. " 

"Take  the  Urseus  crown  from  my  head,"  he  continued 
aloud,  as  he  seated  himself  at  the  feast.  "To-day  I  will 
wear  a  wreath  of  flowers." 

During  the  ceremony  of  bowing  to  the  king,  two  men 
had  quitted  the  hall — the  Regent  Ani  and  the  high-priest 
Ameni. 

Ani  ordered  a  small  party  of  the  watch  to  go  and  seek 
out  the  priest  Pentaur  in  the  tents  of  the  wounded  by  the 
harbor,  to  bring  the  poet  quietly  to  his  tent,  and  to  guard 
him  there  till  his  return.  He  still  had  in  his  possession 
the  maddening  potion,  which  he  was  to  have  given  to  the 
captain  of  the  transport-boat,  and  it  was  open  to  him  still 
to  receive  Pentaur  either  as  a  guest  or  as  a  prisoner.  Pen- 
taur might  injure  him,  whether  Katuti's  project  failed  or 
succeeded. 

Ameni  left  the  pavilion  to  go  to  see  old  Gagabu,  who 
had  stood  so  long  in  the  heat  of  the  sun  during  the  cere- 
mony of  receiving  the  conqueror,  that  he  had  been  at  last 
carried  fainting  to  the  tent  which  he  shared  with  the  high- 
priest,  and  which  was  not  far  from  that  of  the  regent.  He 
found  the  old  man  much  revived,  and  was  preparing  to 
mount  his  chariot  to  go  to  the  banquet,  when  the  regent's 
myrmidons  led  Pentaur  past  in  front  of  him.  Ameni 
looked  doubtfully  at  the  tall  and  noble  figure  of  the  pris- 
oner, but  Pentaur  recognized  him,  called  him  by  his  name, 
and  in  a  moment  they  stood  together,  hand  clasped  in 
hand.  The  guards  showed  some  uneasiness,  but  Ameni 
explained  who  he  was. 

The  high  priest  was  sincerely  rejoiced  at  the  preserva- 
tion and  restoration  of  his  favorite  disciple,  whom  for 
many  months  he  had  mourned  as  dead  ;  he  looked  at  his 
manly  figure  with  fatherly  tenderness,  and  desired  the 
guards,  who  bowed  to  his  superior  dignity,  to  conduct  his 
friend  on  his  responsibility,  to  his  tent  instead  of  to  Ani's. 

There  Pentaur  found  his  old  friend  Gagabu,  who  wept 
with  delight  at  his  safety.  All  that  his  master  had 
accused  him  of  seemed  to  be  forgotten.    Ameni  had  him 


UARDA.  443 

clothed  in  afresh  white  robe— he  was  never  tired  of  looking 
at  him,  and  over  and  over  again  elapped  his  hand  upon  his 
shoulder,  as  if  he  were  his  own  son  that  had  been  lost  and 
found  again. 

Pentaur  was  at  once  required  to  relate  all  that  had 
happened  to  him,  and  the  poet  told  the  story  of  his  cap- 
tivity and  liberation  at  Mount  Sinai,  his  meeting  with 
Bent-Anat,  and  how  he  had  fought  in  the  battle  of  Kadesh, 
had  been  wounded  by  an  arrow,  and  found  and  rescued 
by  the  faithful  Kaschta.  He  concealed  only  his  passion 
for  Bent-Anat,  and  the  fact  that  he  had  preserved  the 
king  s  life. 

"  About  an  hour  ago,"  he  added,  "I  was  sitting  alone 
in  my  tent,  watching  the  lights  in  the  palace  yonder,  when 
the  watch  who  are  outside  brought  me  an  order  from  the 
regent  to  accompany  them  to  his  tent.  What  can  he  want 
with  me  ?    I  always  thought  he  owed  me  a  grudge." 

Gagabu  and  Ameni  glanced  meaningly  at  each  other, 
and  the  high-priest  then  hastened  away,  as  already  he  had 
remained  too  long  from  the  banquet.  Before  he  got 
into  his  chariot  he  commanded  the  guard  to  return  to  their 
posts,  and  took  it  upon  himself  to  inform  the  regent  that 
his  guest  would  remain  in  his  tent  till  the  festival  was 
over ;  the  soldiers  unhesitatingly  obeyed  him. 

Ameni  arrived  at  the  palace  before  them,  and  entered 
the  banqueting-hall  just  as  Ani  was  assigning  a  place  to 
each  of  his  guests.  The  high-priest  went  straight  up  to 
him,  and,  said  as  he  bowed  before  him  : 

"  Pardon  my  long  delay,  but  I  was  detained  by  a  great 
surprise.  The  poet  Pentaur  is  living — as  you  know.  I 
have  invited  him  to  remain  in  my  tent  as  my  guest,  and 
to  tend  the  prophet  Gagabu." 

The  regent  turned  pale,  he  remained  speechless  and 
looked  at  Ameni  with  a  cold,  ghastly  smile  ;  but  he  soon 
recovered  himself. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "  how  you  have  injured  me  by  your 
unworthy  suspicions  ;  I  meant  to  have  restored  your 
favorite  to  you  myself  to-morrow." 

"  Forgive  me,  then,  for  having  anticipated  your  plan," 
said  Ameni,  taking  his  seat  near  the  king. 

Hundreds  of  slaves  hurried  to  and  fro  loaded  with  costly 
dishes.     Large  vessels  of  richly  wrought  gold  and  silver 


444 


UARDA. 


were  brought  into  the  hall  on  wheels,  and  set  on  the  side- 
boards. Children  were  perched  in  the  shells  and  lotus- 
flowers  that  hung  from  the  painted  rafters  ;  and  from 
between  the  pillars,  that  were  hung  with  cloudy  trans- 
parent tissues,  they  threw  roses  and  violets  down  on  the 
company.  The  sound  of  harps  and  songs  issued  from 
concealed  rooms,  and  from  an  altar,  six  ells  high,  in  the 
middle  of  the  hall,  clouds  of  incense  were  wafted  into 
space. 

The  king — one  of  whose  titles  was  "  Son  of  the  Sun," — 
was  as  radiant  as  the  sun  himself.  His  children  were  once 
more  round  him,  Men  a  was  his  cup-bearer  as  in  former 
times,  and  all  that  was  best  and  noblest  in  the  land  was 
gathered  round  him  to  rejoice  with  him  in  his  triumph 
and  his  return.  Opposite  to  him  sat  the  ladies,  and 
exactly  in  front  of  him,  a  delight  to  his  eyes,  Bent- 
Anat  and  Nefert.  His  injunction  to  Mena  to  hold  the 
wine-cup  steadily  seemed  by  no  means  superfluous,  for 
his  looks  constantly  wandered  from  the  king  s  goblet  to 
his  fair  wife,  from  whose  lips  he  as  yet  had  heard  no  word 
of  welcome,  whose  hand  he  had  not  yet  been  so  happy  as 
to  touch. 

All  the  guests  were  in  the  most  joyful  excitement. 
Rameses  related  the  tale  of  his  fight  at  Kadesh,  and  the 
high-priest  of  Heliopolis  observed:  "In  later  times  the 
poets  will  sing  of  thy  deeds/' 

" Their  songs  will  not  be  of  my  achievements,"  ex- 
claimed the  king,  "but  of  the  grace  of  the  Divinity,  who 
so  miraculously  rescued  your  sovereign,  and  gave  the 
victory  to  the  Egyptians  over  an  innumerable  enemy." 

1 '  Did  you  see  the  god  with  your  own  eyes  ?  and  in  what 
form  did  he  appear  to  you?"  asked  Bent-Anat. 

"It  is  most  extraordinary,"  said  the  king,  "but  he 
exactly  resembled  the  dead  father  of  the  traitor  Paaker. 
My  preserver  was  of  tall  stature,  and  had  a  beautiful 
countenance  ;  his  voice  was  deep  and  thrilling,  and  he 
swung  his  battle-ax  as  if  it  were  a  mere  plaything." 

Ameni  had  listened  eagerly  to  the  king  s  words,  now  he 
bowed  low  before  him  and  said,  humbly  :  "  If  I  were 
younger  I  myself  would  endeavor,  as  was  the  custom  with 
our  fathers,  to  celebrate  this  glorious  deed  of  a  god  and  of 
his  sublime  son  in  a  song  worthy  of  this  festival ;  but  melt- 


UARDA. 


445 


ing  tones  are  no  longer  mine— they  vanish  with  years,  and 
the  ear  of  the  listener  lends  itself  only  to  the  young. 
Nothing  is  wanting  to  thy  feast,  most  lordly  Ani,  but  a 
poet  who  might  sing  the  glorious  deeds  of  our  monarch  to 
the  sound  of  his  lute,  and  yet  we  have  at  hand  the  gifted 
Pentaur,  the  noblest  disciple  of  the  House  of  Seti." 

Bent-Anat  turned  perfectly  white,  and  the  priests  who 
were  present  expressed  the  utmost  joy  and  astonishment, 
for  they  had  long  thought  the  young  poet,  who  was  highly 
esteemed  throughout  Egypt,  to  be  dead. 

The  king  had  often  heard  of  the  fame  of  Pentaur  from 
his  sons,  and  especially  from  Rameri,  and  he  willingly  con- 
sented that  Ameni  should  send  for  the  poet,  who  had  him- 
self borne  arms  at  Kadesh,  in  order  that  he  should  sing  a 
song  of  triumph.  The  regent  gazed  blankly  and  uneasily 
into  his  wine-cup,  and  the  high-priest  rose  to  fetch  Pentaur 
himself  into  the  presence  of  the  king. 

During  the  high-priest's  absence  more  and  more  dishes 
were  served  to  the  company ;  behind  each  guest  stood  a 
silver  bowl  with  rose-water,  in  which  from  time  to  time  he 
could  dip  his  fingers  to  cool  and  clean  them  ;  the  slaves  in 
waiting  were  constantly  at  hand  with  embroidered  napkins 
to  wipe  them,  and  others  frequently  changed  the  faded 
wreaths  round  the  heads  and  shoulders  of  the  feasters  for 
fresh  ones. 

"  How  pale  you  are,  my  child  !  "  said  Rameses,  turning 
to  Bent-Anat.  "  If  you  are  tired  your  uncle  will  no  doubt 
allow  you  to  leave  the  hall  ;  though  I  think  you  should 
stay  to  hear  the  performance  of  this  much-lauded  poet. 
After  having  been  so  highly  praised  he  will  find  it  difficult 
to  satisfy  his  hearers.  But  indeed  I  am  uneasy  about  you, 
my  child  ;  would  you  rather  go  ?  " 

The  regent  had  risen  and  said,  earnestly  : 

' 'Your  presence  has  done  me  honor,  but  if  you  are 
fatigued,  I  beg  you  to  allow  me  to  conduct  you  and  your 
ladies  to  the  apartments  intended  for  you/' 

"I  will  stay,"  said  Bent-Anat,  in  a  low  but  decided 
tone,  and  she  kept  her  eyes  on  the  floor,  while  her  heart 
beat  violently,  for  the  murmur  of  voices  told  her  that  Pen- 
taur was  entering  the  hall.  He  wore  the  long  white  robe 
of  a  priest  of  the  temple  of  Seti,  and  on  his  forehead  the 
ostrich  feather  which  marked  him  as  one  of  the  initiated, 


446 


UARDA. 


He  did  not  raise  his  eyes  till  he  stood  close  before  the  king  ; 
then  he  prostrated  himself  before  him,  and  awaited  a  sign 
from  the  Pharaoh  before  he  rose  again. 

But  Rameses  hesitated  a  long  time,  for  the  youthful 
figure  before  him,  and  the  glance  that  met  his  own,  moved 
him  strangely.  Was  not  this  the  divinity  of  the  fight  ? 
Was  not  this  his  preserver  ?  Was  he  again  deluded  by  a 
resemblance,  or  was  he  in  a  drearn  ? 

The  guests  gazed  in  silence  at  the  spell-bound  king  and 
at  the  poet ;  at  last  Rameses  bowed  his  head.  Pentaur 
rose  to  his  feet,  and  the  bright  color  flew  to  his  face  as 
close  to  him  he  perceived  Bent-Anat. 

"  You  fought  at  Kadesh  ?  "  asked  the  king. 

<cAs  thou  sayeth,"  replied  Pentaur. 

' '  You  are  well  spoken  of  as  a  poet, "  said  Rameses,  ' '  and 
we  desire  to  hear  the  wonderful  tale  of  my  preservation 
celebrated  in  song.  If  you  will  attempt  it,  let  a  lute  be 
brought  and  sing." 

The  poet  bowed.  "  My  gifts  are  modest,  "  he  said,  "  but 
I  will  endeavor  to  sing  of  the  glorious  deed,  in  the  presence 
of  the  hero  who  achieved  it,  with  the  aid  of  the  gods." 

Rameses  gave  a  signal,  and  Ameni  caused  a  large  golden 
harp  to  be  brought  in  for  his  disciple.  Pentaur  lightly 
touched  the  strings,  leaned  his  head  against  the  top  of  the 
tall  bow  of  the  harp  for  some  time  lost  in  meditation  ; 
then  he  drew  himself  up  boldly,  and  struck  the  chords, 
bringing  out  a  strong  and  warlike  music  in  broad  heroic 
rhythm. 

Then  he  began  the  narrative  :  how  Rameses  had  pitched 
his  camp  before  Kadesh,  how  he  ordered  his  troops,  and 
how  he  had  taken  the  field  against  the  Cheta,  and  their 
Asiatic  allies.  Louder  and  stronger  rose  his  tones  when  he 
reached  the  turning-point  of  the  battle,  and  began  to  cele- 
brate the  rescue  of  the  king  •  and  the  Pharaoh  listened 
with  eager  attention  as  Pentaur  sang  : 

"  Then  the  king  stood  forth,  and,  radiant  with  courage, 
He  looked  like  the  Sun-god  armed  and  eager  for  battle. 
The  noble  steeds  that  bore  him  into  the  struggle — 
'  Victory  to  Thebes  '  was  the  name  of  one,  and  the  other 
Was  called  4  contented  Nura  ' — were  foaled  in  the  stable^ 
Of  him  we  call  *  the  elect,'  '  the  beloved  of  Amon,' 
*  J-prc}  of  truth,'  the  chosen  vicar  of 


UAk£>A. 


Up  sprang  the  king  and  threw  himself  on  the  foe, 
The  swaying  ranks  of  the  contemptible  Cheta. 
He  stood  alone — alone,  and  no  man  with  him. 
As  thus  the  king  stood  forth  all  eyes  were  upon  him, 
And  soon  he  was  enmeshed  by  men  and  horses, 
And  by  the  enemy's  chariots,  two  thousand  five  hundred. 
The  foe  behind  hemmed  him  in  and  enclosed  him. 
Dense  the  array  of  the  contemptible  Cheta, 
Dense  the  swarm  of  warriors  out  of  Arad, 
Dense  the  Mysian  host,  the  Pisidian  legions. 
Every  chariot  carried  three  bold  warriors, 
All  his  foes,  and  all  allied  like  brothers. 

"  '  Not  a  prince  is  with  me,  not  a  captain, 
Not  an  archer,  none  to  guide  my  horses  f 
Fled  the  riders  !  fled  my  troops  and  horse — 
By  my  side  not  one  is  now  left  standing.' 
Thus  the  king,  and  raised  his  voice  in  prayer. 
*  Great  father  Amon,  I  have  known  Thee  well. 
And  can  the  father  thus  forget  his  son  ? 
Have  I  in  any  deed  forgotten  Thee  ? 
Have  I  done  aught  without  Thy  high  behest, 
Or  moved  or  staid  against  Thy  sovereign  will  ? 
Great  am  I — mighty  are  Egyptian  kings — 
But  in  the  sight  of  Thy  commanding  might, 
Small  as  the  chieftain  of  a  wandering  tribe. 
Immortal  Lord,  crush  Thou  this  unclean  people* 
Break  Thou  their  necks,  annihilate  the  heathen. 

And  I — have  I  not  brought  Thee  many  victims, 
And  filled  Thy  temple  with  the  captive  folk  ? 
And  for  Thy  presence  built  a  dwelling  place 
That  shall  endure  for  countless  years  to  come  ? 
Thy  garners  overflow  with  gifts  from  me. 
I  offered  Thee  the  world  to  swell  Thy  glory, 
And  thirty  thousand  mighty  steers  have  shed 
Their  smoking  blood  on  fragrant  cedar  piles. 
Tall  gateways,  flag-decked  masts,  I  raised  to  Thee, 
And  obelisks  from  Abu  I  have  brought, 
And  built  Thee  temples  of  eternal  stone. 
For  Thee  my  ships  have  brought  across  the  sea 
The  tribute  of  the  nations.    This  I  did — 
When  were  such  things  done  in  the  former  time  ? 

For  dark  the  fate  of  him  who  would  rebel 
Against  Thee;  though  Thy  sway  is  just  and  mild. 
My  father,  Amon — as  an  earthly  son 
His  earthly  father— so  I  call  on  Thee. 
Look  down  from  heaven  on  me,  beset  by  foes, 
By  heathen  foes— the  folk  that  know  Thee  not. 
The  nations  have  combined  against  Thy  son  ; 
I  stand  alone — alone,  and  no  man  with  me. 
My  foot  and  horse  are  fled,  I  called  aloud 
And  no  one  heard — in  vain  I  called  to  them. 


448 


UARDA. 


And  yet  I  say  :  the  sheltering  care  of  Amon 
Is  better  succor  than  a  million  men, 
Or  than  ten  thousand  knights,  or  than  a  thousand 
Brothers  and  sons  though  gathered  into  one. 
And  yet  I  say :  the  bulwarks  raised  by  men 
However  strong,  compared  to  Thy  great  works 
Are  but  vain  shadows,  and  no  human  aid 
Avails  against  the  foe— but  thy  strong  hand. 
The  counsel  of  Thy  lips  shall  guide  my  way; 
I  have  obeyed  whenever  Thou  hast  ruled; 
I  call  on  Thee — and,  with  my  fame,  Thy  glory 
Shall  fill  the  world,  from  farthest  east  to  west.' 

"  Yea,  his  cry  rang  forth  even  far  as  Hermonthis, 
And  Amon  himself  appeared  at  his  call;  and  gave  him 
His  hand  and  shouted  in  triumph,  saying  to  the  Pharaoh ; 
*  Help  is  at  hand,  O  Rameses.    I  will  uphold  thee— 
I  thy  father  am  he  who  now  is  thy  succor, 
Bearing  thee  in  my  hands.    For  stronger  and  readier 
I  than  a  hundred  thousand  mortal  retainers; 
I  am  the  Lord  of  victory  loving  valor  ? 
I  rejoice  in  the  brave  and  give  them  good  counsel, 
And  he  whom  I  counsel  certainly  shall  not  miscarry.' 

"  Then  like  Menth,  with  his  right  he  scattered  the  arrows, 
And  with  his  left  he  swung  his  deadly  weapon, 
Felling  the  foe — as  his  foes  are  felled  by  Baal. 
The  chariots  were  broken  and  the  drivers  scattered, 
Then  was  the  foe  overthrown  before  his  horses. 
None  found  a  hand  to  fight :  they  could  not  shoot, 
Nor  dared  they  hurl  the  spear,  but  fled  at  his  coming — 
Headlong  into  the  river."* 

A  silence  as  of  the  grave  reigned  in  the  vast  hall.  Ra- 
meses fixed  his  eyes  on  the  poet,  as  though  he  would  en- 
grave his  features  on  his  very  soul,  and  compare  them 
with  those  of  another  which  had  dwelt  there  unforgotten 
since  the  day  of  Kadesh.  Beyond  a  doubt  his  preserver 
stood  before  him. 

Seized  by  a  sudden  impulse,  he  interrupted  the  poet  in 
the*  midst  of  his  stirring  song,  and  cried  out  to  the  as- 
sembled guests  : 

"Pay  honor  to  this  man!  for  the  Divinity  chose  to 
appear  under  his  form  to  save  your  king  when  he  '  alone, 
and  no  man  with  him,'  struggled  with  a  thousand." 

"Hail  to  Pentaur!"  rang  through  the  hall  from  the 

*  I  have  availed  myself  of  the  help  of  Prof.  Lushington's  translation 
In  "  Records  of  the  Past,"  edited  by  Dr.  S.  Burch.— Translator. 


UARDA. 


449 


vast  assembly,  and  Nefert  rose  and  gave  the  poet  the 
bunch  of  flowers  she  had  been  wearing  on  her  bosom. 

The  king  nodded  approval,  and  looked  inquiringly  at 
his  daughter ;  Bent-Anat's  eyes  met  his  with  a  glance  of 
intelligence,  and  with  all  the  simplicity  of  an  impulsive 
child,  she  took  from  her  head  the  wreath  that  had  deco- 
rated her  beautiful  hair,  went  up  to  Pentaur,  and  crowned 
him  with  it,  as  it  was  customary  for  a  bride  to  crown  her 
lover  before  the  wedding. 

Rameses  observed  his  daughter's  action  with  some  sur- 
prise, and  the  guests  responded  to  it  with  loud  cheering. 

The  king  looked  gravely  at  Bent-Anat  and  the  young 
priest ;  the  eyes  of  all  the  company  were  eagerly  fixed  on 
the  princess  and  the  poet.  The  king  seemed  to  have  for- 
gotten the  presence  of  strangers,  and  to  be  w^holly  ab- 
sorbed in  thought,  but  by  degrees  a  change  came  over  his 
face,  it  cleared;  as  a  landscape  is  cleared  from  the  morning 
mists  under  the  influence  of  the  spring  sunshine.  When 
he  looked  up  again  his  glance  was  bright  and  satisfied, 
and  Bent-Anat  knew  what  it  promised  when  it  lingered 
lovingly  first  on  her,  and  then  on  her  friend,  whose  head 
was  still  graced  by  the  wreath  that  had  crowned  hers. 

At  last  Rameses  turned  from  the  lovers,  and  said  to  the 
guests  : 

"  It  is  past  midnight,  and  I  will  now  leave  you.  To- 
morrow evening  I  bid  you  all — and  you  especially,  Pen- 
taur— to  be  my  guests  in  this  banqueting-hall.  Once 
more  fill  your  cups,  and  let  us  empty  them — to  a  long 
time  of  peace  after  the  victory  which,  by  the  help  of  the 
gods,  we  have  won.  And  at  the  same  time  let  us  express 
our  thanks  to  my  friend  Ani,  who  has  entertained  us  so 
magnificently,  and  who  has  so  faithfully  and  zealously 
administered  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  during  my 
absence." 

The  company  pledged  the  king,  who  warmly  shook 
hands  with  the  regent,'  and  then,  escorted  by  his  wand- 
bearers  and  lords  in  waiting,  quitted  the  hall,  after  he  had 
signed  to  Mena,  Ameni,  and  the  ladies  to  follow  him. 

Nefert  greeted  her  husband,  but  she  immediately  parted 
from  the  royal  party,  as  she  had  yielded  to  the  urgent 
entreaty  of  Katuti  that  she  should  for  this  night  go  to  her 
mother,  to  whom  she  had  so  much  to  tell,  insteac  of 
29 


UARDA. 


remaining  with  the  princess.  Her  mothers  chariot  soon 
took  her  to  her  tent. 

Rameses  dismissed  his  attendants  in  the  anteroom  of 
his  apartments  ;  when  they  were  alone  he  turned  to  Bent- 
Anat,  and  said,  affectionately  : 

"What  was  in  your  mind  when  you  laid  your  wreath 
on  the  poet's  brow  ?  " 

"What  is  in  every  maiden's  mind  when  she  does  the 
like,"  replied  Bent-Anat  with  trustful  frankness. 

"And  your  father?  "  asked  the  king. 

"My  father  knows  that  I  will  obey  him  even  if  he 
demands  of  me  the  hardest  thing — the  sacrifice  of  all  my 
happiness  ;  but  I  believe  that  he — that  you  love  me  fondly, 
and  I  do  not  forget  the  hour  in  which  you  said  to  me  that 
now  my  mother  was  dead  you  would  be  father  and  mother 
both  to  me,  and  you  would  try  to  understand  me  as  she 
certainly  would  have  understood  me.  But  what  need 
between  us  of  so  many  words.  I  love  Pentaur — with  a 
love  that  is  not  of  yesterday — with  the  first  perfect  love  of 
my  heart,  and  he  has  proved  himself  worthy  of  that  high 
honor.  But  were  he  ever  so  humble,  the  hand  of  your 
daughter  has  the  power  to  raise  him  above  every  prince  in 
the  land. " 

"  It  has  such  power,  and  you  shall  exercise  it,"  cried 
the  king.  "  You  have  been  true  and  faithful  to  yourself, 
while  your  father  and  protector  left  you  to  yourself.  In 
you  I  love  the  image  of  your  mother,  and  I  learned  from 
her  that  a  true  woman's  heart  can  find  the  right  path 
better  than  a  man's  wisdom.  Now  go  to  rest,  and  to- 
morrow morning  put  on  a  fresh  wreath,  for  you  will  have 
need  of  it,  my  noble  daughter." 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

The  cloudless  vault  of  heaven  spread  over  the  plain  of 
Pelusium,  the  stars  were  bright,  the  moon  threw  her  calm 
light  over  the  thousands  of  tents  which  shone  as  white  as 
little  hillocks  of  snow.   All  was  silent :  the  soldiers  and  the 


UARDA. 


451 


Egyptians,  who  had  assembled  to  welcome  the  king,  were 
now  all  gone  to  rest. 

There  had  been  great  rejoicing  and  jollity  in  the  camp  ; 
three  enormous  vats,  garlanded  with  flowers  and  overflow- 
ing with  wine,  which  spilt  with  every  movement  of  the 
trucks  on  which  they  were  drawn  by  thirty  oxen,  were 
sent  up  and  down  the  little  streets  of  tents,  and  as  the 
evening  closed  in,  tavern  booths  were  erected  in  many 
spots  in  the  camp,  at  which  the  regent's  servants  supplied 
the  soldiers  with  red  and  white  wine.  The  tents  of  the 
populace  were  only  divided  from  the  pavilion  of  the 
Pharaoh  by  the  hastily-constructed  garden  in  the  midst  of 
which  it  stood,  and  the  hedge  which  inclosed  it. 

The  tent  of  the  regent  himself  was  distinguished  from 
all  the  others  by  its  size  and  magnificence  ;  to  the  right  of 
it  was  the  encampment  of  the  different  priestly  deputa- 
tions, to  the  left  that  of  his  suite  ;  among  the  latter  were 
the  tents  of  his  friend  Katuti,  a  large  one  for  her  Own  use, 
and  some  smaller  ones  for  her  servants.  Behind  Ani's 
pavilion  stood  a  tent,  enclosed  in  a  wall  or  screen  of 
canvas,  within  which  old  Hekt  was  lodged ;  Ani  had 
secretly  conveyed  her  hither  on  board  his  own  boat. 
Only  Katuti  and  his  confidential  servants  knew  who  it 
was  that  lay  concealed  in  the  mysteriously  shrouded 
abode. 

While  the  banquet  was  proceeding  in  the  great  pavilion, 
the  witch  was  sitting  in  a  heap  on  the  sandy  earth  of  her 
conical  canvas  dwelling ;  she  breathed  with  difficulty,  for 
a  weakness  of  the  heart,  against  which  she  had  long  strug- 
gled, now  oppressed  her  more  frequently  and  severely; 
a  little  lamp  of  clay  burned  before  her,  and  on  her  lap 
crouched  a  sick  and  ruffled  hawk  ;  the  creature  shivered 
from  time  to  time,  closing  the  filmy  lids  of  his  keen  eyes, 
which  glowed  with  a  dull  fire  when  Hekt  took  him  up  in 
her  withered  hand,  and  tried  to  blow  some  air  into  his 
hooked  beak,  still  ever  ready  to  peck  and  tear  her. 

At  her  feet  little  Scherau  lay  asleep.  Presently  she 
pushed  the  child  with  her  foot.  "  Wake  up/'  she  said,  as 
he  raised  himself,  still  half  asleep.  "You  have  young 
ears — it  seemed  to  me  that  I  heard  a  woman  scream  in 
Ani's  tent.     Do  you  hear  anything  ?  " 

"Yes,  indeed/'  exclaimed  the  little  one.    "There  is  a 


452  UARDA. 

noise  like  crying,  and  that— that  was  a  scream  !    It  came 
from  out  there,  from  Nemu's  tent." 

"  Creep  through  there,  "  said  the  witch,  "  and  see  what 
is  happening  !  " 

The  child  obeyed.  Hekt  turned  her  attention  again  to 
the  bird,  which  no  longer  perched  in  her  lap,  but  lay  on 
one  side,  and  now  could  not  try  to  use  its  talons,  when  she 
took  him  up  in  her  hand. 

"It  is  all  over  with  him/' muttered  the  old  woman, 
"and  the  one  I  called  Rameses  is  sleeker  than  ever.  It  is 
all  folly,  and  yet— and  yet  !  the  regent's  game  is  over, 
and  he  has  lost  it.  The  creature  is  stretching  itself— its 
head  drops— it  draws  itself  up— one  more  clutch  at  my 
dress — now  it  is  dead  !  " 

She  contemplated  the  dead  hawk  in  her  lap  for  some 
minutes,  then  she  took  it  up,  flung  it  into  a  corner  of  the 
tent,  and  exclaimed  : 

"Good-bye,  King  Ani.  The  crown  is  not  for  you  ! 
Then  she  went  on  :  "What project  has  he  in  hand  now,  I 
wonder  ?  Twenty  times  he  has  asked  me  whether  the 
great  enterprise  will  succeed ;  as  if  I  knew  any  more  than 
he  !  And  Nemu  too  has  hinted  all  kinds  of  things,  though 
he  would  not  speak  out.  Something  is  going  on,  and  I— 
and  I  ?    There  it  comes  again  !  " 

The  old  woman  pressed  her  hand  to  her  heart  and  closed 
her  eyes  ;  her  features  were  distorted  with  pain  ;  she  did 
not  perceive  Scherau's  return,  she  did  not  hear  him  call  her 
name,  or  see  that,  when  she  did  not  answer  him,  he  left 
her  again.  For  an  hour  or  more  she  remained  uncon- 
scious, then  her  senses  returned,  but  she  felt  as  if  some 
ice-cold  fluid  slowly  ran  through  her  veins  instead  of  the 
warm  blood.  -      .„  ,  , 

"If  I  had  kept  a  hawk  for  myself  too,  she  muttered, 
"  it  would  soon  follow  the  other  one  in  the  corner.  If 
only  Ani  keeps  his  word  and  has  me  embalmed  !  But 
how  can  he  when  he  too  is  so  near  his  end  ?  They  will  let 
me  rot  and  disappear,  and  there  will  be  no  future  for  me, 
no  meeting  with  Assa."  u 

The  old  woman  remained  silent  for  a  long  time  ;  at  last 
she  murmured  hoarsely,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground  : 
"  Death  brings  release,  if  only  from  the  torment  of  re- 
membrance.   But  there  is  a  life  beyond  the  grave.    I  do 


UARDA. 


453 


not,  I  will  not  cease  to  hope.  The  dead  shall  all  be 
equally  judged,  and  subject  to  the  inscrutable  decrees. 
Where  shall  I  find  him  ?  Among  the  blest,  or  among  the 
damned  ?  And  I  ?  It  matters  not !  The  deeper  the  abyss 
into  which  they  fling  me  the  better.  Can  Assa,  if  he  is 
among  the  blest,  remain  in  bliss,  when  he  sees  to  what  he 
has  brought  me  ?  Oh  !  they  must  embalm  me — I  cannot 
bear  to  vanish,  and  rot  and  evaporate  into  nothing- 
ness !  " 

While  she  was  still  speaking,  the  dwarf  Nemu  had  come 
into  the  tent  ;  Scherau,  seeing  the  old  woman  senseless, 
had  run  to  tell  him  that  his  mother  was  lying  on  the  earth 
with  her  eyes  shut,  and  was  dying.  The  witch  perceived 
the  little  man. 

"  It  is  well/'  she  said, ' '  that  you  have  come  ;  I  shall  be 
dead  before  sunrise. " 

"  Mother  !  "  cried  the  dwarf,  horrified,  "  you  shall  live, 
and  live  better  than  you  have  done  till  now  !  Great  things 
are  happening,  and  for  us  ! 

"I  know,  I  know,"  said  Hekt.  "  Go  away,  Scherau — 
now,  Nemu,  whisper  in  my  ear  what  is  doing  ?  " 

The  dwarf  felt  as  if  he  could  not  avoid  the  influence  of 
her  eye ;  he  went  up  to  her  and  said,  softly  : 

"The  pavilion,  in  which  the  king  and  his  people  are 
sleeping,  is  constructed  of  wood  ;  straw  and  pitch  are  built 
into  the  walls,  and  laid  under  the  boards.  As  soon  as  they 
are  gone  to  rest  we  shall  set  the  tinder  thing  on  fire.  The 
guards  are  drunk  and  sleeping." 

"  Well  thought  of,"  said  Hekt.     "  Did  you  plan  it  ?  " 

"  I  and  my  mistress,"  said  the  dwarf,  not  without  pride. 

' '  You  can  devise  a  plot, "  said  the  old  woman,  ' '  but  you 
are  feeble  in  the  working  out.  Is  your  plan  a  secret  ? 
Have  you  clever  assistants  ?  " 

"No  one  knows  of  it,"  replied  the  dwarf,  "  but  Katuti, 
Paaker,  and  I  ;  we  three  shall  lay  the  brands  to  the  spots 
we  have  fixed  upon.  I  am  going  to  the  rooms  of  Bent- 
Anat ;  Katuti,  who  can  go  in  and  out  as  she  pleases,  will 
set  fire  to  the  stairs  which  lead  to  the  upper  story,  and 
which  fall  by  touching  a  spring  ;  and  Paaker  to  the  king's 
apartments. " 

"Good — good,  it  may  succeed,  "gasped  the  old  woman, 
<g  But  what  was  the  scream  in  your  tent  ?  " 


454 


UARDA. 


The  dwarf  seemed  doubtful  about  answering  ;  but  Hekt 
went  on  :  .  „ 

<  '  Speak  without  fear— the  dead  are  sure  to  be  silent. 
The  dwarf,  trembling  with  agitation,  shook  off  his  hesi- 
tation, and  said  : 

"I  have  found  Uarda,  the  grandchild  of  Pmem,  who 
had  disappeared,  and  I  decoyed  her  here,  for  she  and  no 
other  shall  be  my  wife,  if  Ani  is  king,  and  if  Katuti  makes 
me  rich  and  free.  She  is  in  the  service  of  the  Princess 
Bent-Anat,  and  sleeps  in  her  anteroom,  and  she  must  not 
be  burnt  with  her  mistress.  She  insisted  on  going  back  to 
the  palace,  so,  as  she  would  fly  to  the  fire  like  a  gnat,  and 
I  would  not  have  her  risk  being  burned,  I  tied  her  up  fast." 

"  Did  she  not  struggle  ?  "  said  Hekt. 

"Like  a  mad  thing,"  said  the  dwarf.  "But  the  re- 
gent's dumb  slave,  who  was  ordered  by  his  master  to  obey 
me  in  everything  to-day,  helped  me.  We  tied  up  her 
mouth  that  she  might  not  be  heard  screaming." 

"Will  you  leave  her  alone  when  you  go  to  do  your 
errand  ? " 

"  Her  father  is  with  her  !  " 

"Kaschta,  the  red-beard?"  asked  the  old  woman,  in 
surprise.  "  And  did  he  not  break  you  in  pieces  like  an 
earthenware  pot  ?  " 

"  He  will  not  stir,"  said  Nemu,  laughing.  "For  when 
I  found  him,  I  made  him  so  drunk  with  Ani's  old  wine 
that  he  lies  there  like  a  mummy.  It  was  from  him  that  I 
learned  where  Uarda  was,  and  I  went  to  her,  and  got  her 
to  come  with  me  by  telling  her  that  her  father  was  very  ill, 
and  begged  her  to  go  to  see  him  once  more.  She  flew 
after  me  like  a  gazelle,  and  when  she  saw  the  soldier  lying 
there  senseless  she  threw  herself  upon  him,  and  called  for 
water  to  cool  his  head,  for  he  was  raving  in  his  dreams  of 
rats  and  mice  that  had  fallen  upon  him.  As  it  grew  late 
she  wanted  to  return  to  her  mistress,  and  we  were  obliged 
to  prevent  her.  How  handsome  she  has  grown,  mother  ; 
you  cannot  imagine  how  pretty  she  is." 

"  Ay,  ay  !  "  said  Hekt.  "You  will  have  to  keep  an  eye 
upon  her  when  she  is  your  wife." 

"  I  will  treat  her  like  the  wife  of  a  noble,"  said  Nemu. 
"  And  pay  a  real  lady  to  guard  her.  But  by  this  time 
Katuti  has  brought  home  her  daughter,  Mena  s  wife ;  the 


UARDA. 


455 


stars  are  sinking"  and — there — that  was  the  first  signal. 
When  Katuti  whistles  the  third  time  we  are  to  go  to 
work.  Lend  me  your  fire-box,  mother,  it  is  better  than 
mine." 

"  Take  it, "  said  Hekt.  "  I  shall  never  need  it  again. 
It  is  all  over  with  me  !  How  your  hand  shakes  !  Hold  the 
wood  firmlv,  or  you  will  drop  it  before  you  have  brought 
the  fire."  " 

p  The  dwarf  bid  the  old  woman  farewell,  and  she  let  him 
kiss  her  without  moving.  When  he  was  gone,  she  listened 
eagerly  for  any  sound  that  might  pierce  the  silence  of  the 
night,  her  eyes  shone  with  a  keen  light,  and  a  thousand 
thoughts  flew  through  her  restless  brain.  When  she  heard 
the  second  signal  on  Katuti's  silver  whistle,  she  sat  upright 
and  muttered  : 

;"  That  gallows-bird  Paaker,  his  vain  aunt,  and  that 
villain  Ani  are  no  match  for  Rameses,  even  wnen  he  is 
asleep.  Ani  s  hawk  is  dead  ;  he  has  nothing  to  hope  for 
from  fortune,  and  I  nothing  to  hope  for  from  him.  But 
if  Rameses — if  the  real  king  would  promise  me — then  my 
poor  old  body— Yes,  that  is  the  thing,  that  is  what  I  will 
do." 

She  painfully  raised  herself  on  her  feet  with  the  help 
of  her  stick,  she  found  a  knife  and  a  small  flask  which  she 
slipped  into  her  dress,  and  then,  bent  and  trembling,  with 
a  last  effort  of  her  remaining  strength  she  dragged  herself 
as  far  as  Nemus  tent.  Here  she  found  Uarda bound  hand 
and  foot,  and  Kaschta  lying  on  the  ground  in  a  heavy 
drunken  slumber. 

The  girl  shrank  together  in  alarm  when  she  saw  the  old 
woman,  and  Scherau,  who  crouched  at  her  side,  raisedhis 
hands  imploringly  to  the  witch. 

' '  Take  this  knife,  boy, "  she  said  to  the  little  one.  ' 1  Cut 
the  ropes  the  poor  thing  is  tied  with.  The  papyrus  cords 
are  strong,*  saw  them  with  the  blade." 

While  the  boy  eagerly  followed  her  instructions  with  all 
his  little  might,  she  rubbed  the  soldier's  temples  with  an 
essence  which  she  had  in  the  bottle,  and  poured  a  few  drops 
of  it  between  his  lips.    Kaschta  came  to  himself,  stretched 

*  Papyrus  was  used  not  only  for  writing  on,  but  also  for  ropes.  The 
bridge  of  boats  on  which  Xerxes  crossed  the  Hellespont  was  fastened 
with  cables  of  papyrus. 


456  UARDA. 

his  limbs,  and  stared  in  astonishment  at  the  place  in  which 
he  found  himself.  She  gave  him  some  water,  and  desired 
him  to  drink  it,  saying,  as  Uarda  shook  herself  free  from 
her  bonds  :  - 

"  The  gods  have  predestined  you  to  great  things,  you 
white  maiden.  Listen  to  what  I,  old  Hekt,  am  telling 
you.  The  kings  life  is  threatened,  his  and  his  children  s  ; 
I  purpose  to  save  them,  and  I  ask  no  reward  but  this— 
that  he  should  have  my  body  embalmed  and  interred  at 
Thebes.  Swear  to  me  that  you  will  require  this  of  him 
when  you  have  saved  him."  ^     .       t  - 

"  In  Gods  name  what  is  happening?    cried  Uarda. 

"  Swear  that  you  will  provide  for  my  burial,"  said  the 
old  woman. 

<  <  I  swear  it  !  "  cried  the  girl.     ' '  But  for  God  s  sake  - 

"  Katuti,  Paaker,  and  Nemu  are  gone  to  set  fire  to  the 
palace  when  Rameses  is  sleeping,  in  three  places.  Do  you 
hear,  Kaschta  !  Now  hasten,  fly  after  the  incendiaries, 
rouse  the  servants,  and  try  to  rescue  the  king." 

"  Oh,  fly,  father  !  "  cried  the  girl,  and  they  both  rushed 
away  in  the  darkness.  - 

"She  is  honest  and  will  keep  her  word,  muttered  Hekt, 
and  she  tried  to  drag  herself  back  to  her  own  tent  ;  but 
her  strength  failed  her  half-way.  Little  Scherau  tried  to 
support  her,  but  he  was  too  weak  ;  she  sank  down  on  the 
sand,  and  looked  out  into  the  distance.  There  she  saw 
the  dark  mass  of  the  palace,  from  which  rose  a  light  that 
^rew  broader  and  broader,  then  clouds  of  black  smoke, 
then  up  flew  the  soaring  flame,  and  a  swarm  of  glowing 

SP  "Run  into  the  camp,  child,"  she  cried,  "  cry  fire,  and 
wake  the  sleepers. 

Scherau  ran  off  shouting  as  loud  as  he  could. 

The  old  woman  pressed  her  hand  to  her  side,  and  mut- 
tered •  "There  it  is  again.  In  the  other  world— Assa 
— Assa  "  and  her  trembling  lips  were  silent  forever. 


UARDA. 


457 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Katuti  had  kept  her  unfortunate  nephew  Paaker  con- 
cealed in  one  of  her  servants'  tents.  He  had  escaped 
wounded  from  the  battle  at  Kadesh,  and  in  terrible  pain 
he  had  succeeded,  by  the  help  of  an  ass  which  he  had  pur- 
chased from  a  peasant,  in  reaching,  by  paths  known  to 
hardly  any  one  but  himself,  the  cave  where  he  had  pre- 
viously left  his  brother.  Here  he  found  his  faithful 
Ethiopian  slave,  who  nursed  him  till  he  was  strong  enough 
to  set  out  on  his  journey  to  Egypt.  He  reached  Pelusium, 
after  many  privations,  disguised  as  an  Ishmaelite  camel- 
driver  ;  he  left  his  servant,  who  might  have  betrayed  him, 
behind  in  the  cave. 

Before  he  was  permitted  to  pass  the  fortifications,  which 
lay  across  the  isthmus  which  parts  the  Mediterranean  from 
the  Red  Sea,  and  which  were  intended  to  protect  Egypt 
from  the  incursions  of  the  nomad  tribes  of  the  Chasu,  he 
was  subjected  to  a  strict  interrogatory,  and  among  other 
questions  was  asked  whether  he  had  nowhere  met  with 
the  traitor  Paaker,  who  was  minutely  described  to  him. 
No  one  recognized  in  the  shrunken,  gray-haired,  one-eyed 
camel-driver,  the  broad-shouldered,  muscular,  and  thick- 
legged  pioneer.  To  disguise  himself  the  more  effectually, 
he  procured  some  hair-dye  * — a  cosmetic  known  in  all 
ages — and  blackened  himself.  Katuti  had  arrived  at 
Pelusium  with  Ani  some  time  before,  to  superintend  ihe 
construction  of  the  royal  pavilion.  He  ventured  to 
approach  her  disguised  as  a  negro  beggar,  with  a  palm- 
branch  in  his  hand.  She  gave  him  some  money  and  ques- 
tioned him  concerning  his  native  country,  for  she  made  it 
her  business  to  secure  the  favor  even  of  the  meanest ;  but 
though  she  appeared  to  take  an  interest  in  his  answers, 
she  did  not  recognize  him  ;  now  for  the  first  time  he  felt 

*  In  my  papyrus  there  are  several  recipes  for  the  preparation  of  hair- 
dye;  one  is  ascribed  to  the  Lady  Schesch,  the  mother  of  Teta,  wife  of 
the  first  king  of  Egypt.  The  earliest  of  all  the  recipes  preserved  to  us 
is  a  prescription  for  dyeing  the  hair. 


45g  UARDA. 

secure,  and  the  next  day  he  went  up  to  her  again,  and 
told  her  who  he  was. 

The  widow  was  not  unmoved  by  the  frightful  alteration 
in  her  nephew,  and  although  she  knew  that  even  Am  had 
decreed  that  any  intercourse  with  the  traitor  was  to  be 
punished  by  death,  she  took  him  at  once  into  her  service, 
for  she  had  never  had  greater  need  than  now  to  employ 
the  desperate  enemy  of  the  king  and  of  her  son-in  law. 

The  mutilated,  despised  and  hunted  man  kept  himselt 
far  from  the  other  servants,  regarding  the  meaner  folk 
with  undiminished  scorn.  He  thought  seldom,  and  only 
vaguely,  of  Katuti's  daughter,  for  love  had  quite  given 
place  to  hatred,  and  only  one  thing  now  seemed  to  him 
worth  living  for— the  hope  of  working  with  others  to 
cause  his  enemies'  downfall,  and  of  being  the  instrument 
of  their  death  ;  so  he  offered  himself  to  the  widow  a  will- 
ing and  welcome  tool,  and  the  dull  flash  in  his  uninjured 
eye,  when  she  set  him  the  task  of  setting  fire  to  the  king  s 
apartments,  showed  her  that  in  the  Mohar  she  had  found 
an  ally  she  might  depend  on  to  the  uttermost 

Paaker  had  carefully  examined  the  scene  of  his  exploit 
before  the  king's  arrival.  Under  the  windows  of  the 
king's  rooms,  It  least  forty  feet  from  the  ground,  was  a 
narrow  parapet  resting  on  the  ends  of  the  beams  which 
snorted  the  rafters  on  which  lay  the  floor  of  the  upper 
story  in  which  the  king  slept.  These  rafters  had  been 
smeared  with  pitch,  and  straw  had  been  laid  between 
them  and  the  pioneer  would  have  known  how  to  find  the 
opening  where  he  was  to  put  in  the  brand  even  if  he  had 
been  blind  of  both  eyes.  ,, 

WhenKatuti  first  sounded  her  whistle  he  slunk  to  his 
post;  he  was  challenged  by  no  watchman  for  the  few 
guards  who  had  been  placed  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
the  pavilion  had  all  gone  to  sleep  under  the  influence  of 
the  regent's  wine.  Paaker  climbed  up  to  about  the  heigh 
of twfmen  from  the  ground  by  the  help  of  the  ornamental 
carving  on  the  outside  wall  of  the  palace ;  here  a  rope- 
?adXgwas  attached;  he  clambered  up  this,  and  soon 
stood  on  the  parapet,  above  which  were  the  windows  of 
the  king's  rooms,  and  below  which  the  fire  was  to  be  laid 
Ramfses'  room  was  brightly  Alumina  ted  Paaker  could 
see  into  it  without  being  seen,  and  could  hear  every  word 


UARDA. 


459 


that  was  spoken  within.  The  king  was  sitting  in  an  arm- 
chair, and  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  ground  ;  before  him 
stood  the  regent,  and  Mena  stood  by  his  couch,  holding 
in  his  hand  the  king's  sleeping-robe. 

Presently  Rameses  raised  his  head,  and  said,  as  he 
offered  his  hand  with  frank  affection  to  Ani  : 

"  Let  me  bring  this  glorious  day  to  a  worthy  end,  cousin. 
I  have  found  you  my  true  and  faithful  friend,  and  I  had 
been  in  danger  of  believing  those  over-anxious  counselors 
who  spoke  evil  of  you.  I  am  never  prone  to  distrust,  but 
a  number  of  things  occurred  together  that  clouded  my 
judgment,  and  I  did  you  injustice.  I  am  sorry,  sincerely 
sorry  ;  nor  am  I  ashamed  to  apologize  to  you  for  having 
for  an  instant  doubted  your  good  intentions.  You  are  my 
good  friend — and  I  will  prove  to  you  that  I  am  yours. 
There  is  my  hand— take  it ;  and  all  Egypt  shall  know  that 
Rameses  trusts  no  man  more  implicitly  than  his  Regent 
Ani.  I  will  ask  you  to  undertake  to  be  my  guard  of 
honor  to-night — we  will  share  this  room.  I  sleep  here  ; 
when  I  lie  down  on  my  couch  take  your  place  on  the 
divan  yonder." 

Ani  had  taken  Rameses'  offered  hand,  but  now  he  turned 
pale  as  he  looked  down.  Paaker  could  see  straight  into 
his  face,  and  it  was  not  without  difficulty  that  he  sup- 
pressed a  scornful  laugh. 

#  Rameses  did  not  observe  the  regent's  dismay,  for  he  had 
signed  to  Mena  to  come  closer  to  him. 

"  Before  I  sleep,"  said  the  king,  "  1  will  bring  matters 
to  an  end  with  you  too.  You  have  put  your  wife's  con- 
stancy to  a  severe  test,  and  she  has  trusted  you  with  a 
child-like  simplicity  that  is  often  wiser  than  the  arguments 
of  sages,  because  she  loved  you  honestly,  and  is  herself 
incapable  of  guile.  I  promised  you  that  I  would  grant 
you  a  wish  if  your  faith  in  her  was  justified.  Now  tell  me 
what  is  your  will  ?  " 

m  Mena  fell  on  his  knees  and  covered  the  king's  robe  with 
kisses. 

/ '  Pardon  !  "  he  exclaimed.  <  <  Nothing  but  pardon.  My 
crime  was  a  heavy  one,  I  know  ;  but  I  was  driven  to  it  by 
scorn  and  fury — it  was  as  if  I  saw  the  dishonoring  hand 
of  Paaker  stretched  out  to  seize  my  innocent  wife,  who, 
as  I  now  know,  loathes  him  as  a  toad  " 


460 


"  What  was  that  ?  "  exclaimed  the  king.  "  I  thought  I 
heard  a  groan  outside." 

He  went  up  to  the  window  and  looked  out,  but  he  did 
not  see  the  pioneer,  who  wTatched  every  motion  of  the 
king,  and  who,  as  soon  as  he  perceived  that  his  involun- 
tary sigh  of  anguish  had  been  heard,  stretched  himself 
close  under  the  balustrade.  Mena  had  not  risen  from  his 
knees  when  the  king  once  more  turned  to  him. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  said  again.  "  Let  me  be  near  thee 
again  as  before,  and  drive  thy  chariot.  I  live  only  through 
thee,  I  am  of  no  worth  but  through  thee,  and  by  thy 
favor,  my  king,  my  lord,  my  father  !  " 

Rameses  signed  to  his  favorite  to  rise.  "Your  request 
was  granted,"  said  he,  "  before  you  made  it.  I  am  still 
in  your  debt  on  your  fair  wife's  account.  Thank  Nefert — 
not  me,  and  let  us  give  thanks  to  the  immortals  this  day 
with  especial  favor.  What  has  it  not  brought  forth  for 
us  !  He  has  restored  to  me  you  two  friends,  whom  I  re- 
garded as  lost  to  me,  and  his  given  me  in  Pentaur  another 
son. 

A  low  whistle  sounded  through  the  night  air ;  it  was 
Katuti's  last  signal. 

Paaker  blew  up  the  tinder,  laid  it  in  the  hole  under  the 
parapet,  and  then,  unmindful  of  his  own  danger,  raised 
himself  to  listen  for  any  further  words. 

"  I  entreat  thee,"  said  the  regent,  approaching  Rameses, 
"to  excuse  me.  I  fully  appreciate  thy  favors,  but  the 
labors  of  the  last  few  days  have  been  too  much  for  me  ;  I 
can  hardly  stand  on  my  feet,  and  the  guard  of  honor  " 

"Mena  will  watch,"  said  the  king.  "Sleep  in  all 
security,  cousin.  I  will  have  it  known  to  all  men  that  I 
have  put  away  from  me  all  distrust  of  you.  Give  me 
my  night-robe,  Mena.  Nay — one  thing  more  I  must  tell 
you.  Youth  smiles  on  the  young,  Ani.  Bent-Anat  has 
chosen  a  worthy  husband,  my  preserver,  the  poet  Pentaur. 
He  was  said  to  be  a  man  of  humble  origin,  the  son  of  a 
gardener  of  the  House  of  Seti ;  and  now  what  do  I  learn 
through  Ameni?  He  is  the  true  son  of  the  dead  Mohar, 
and  the  foul  traitor  Paaker  is  the  gardener's  son.  A  witch 
in  the  Necropolis  changed  the  children.  This  is  the  best 
news  of  all  that  has  reached  me  on  this  propitious  day,  for 
the  Mohar's  widow,  the  noble  Setchem,  has  been  brought 


UARDA. 


461 


here,  and  I  should  have  been  obliged  to  choose  between 
two  sentences  on  her  as  the  mother  of  the  villain  who  has 
escaped  us.    Either  I  must  have  sent  her  to  the  quarries, 

or  have  had  her  beheaded  before  all  the  people   For 

God's  sake,  what  is  that  ?  " 

They  heard  a  loud  cry  in  a  man's  voice,  and  at  the  same 
instant  a  noise  as  if  some  heavy  mass  had  fallen  to  the 
ground  from  a  great  height.  Rameses  and  Mena  hastened 
to  the  window,  but  started  back,  for  they  were  met  by  a 
cloud  of  smoke. 

tl  Call  the  watch  !  "  cried  the  king. 

"Go,  you,"  exclaimed  Mena  to  Ani.  "I  will  not  leave 
the  king  again  in  danger." 

Ani  fled  away  like  an  escaped  prisoner,  but  he  could 
not  get  far,  for,  before  he  could  descend  the  stairs  to  the 
lower  story,  they  fell  in  before  his  very  eyes ;  Katuti,  after 
she  had  set  fire  to  the  interior  of  the  palace,  had  made 
them  fall  by  one  blow  of  a  hammer.  Ani  saw  her  robe  as 
she  herself  fled,  clenched  his  fist  with  rage  as  he  shouted 
her  name,  and  then,  not  knowing  what  he  did,  rushed 
headlong  through  the  corridor  into  which  the  different 
royal  apartments  opened. 

The  fearful  crash  of  the  falling  stairs  brought  the  king 
and  Mena  also  out  of  the  sleeping-room. 

"  There  lie  the  stairs  !  that  is  serious  !  "  said  the  king, 
coolly  ;  then  he  went  back  into  his  room,  and  looked  out  of 
a  window  to  estimate  the  danger.  Bright  flames  were 
already  bursting  from  the  northern  end  of  the  palace,  and 
gave  the  gray  dawn  the  brightness  of  day  ;  the  southern 
wing  of  the  pavilion  was  not  yet  on  fire.  Mena  observed 
the  parapet  from  which  Paaker  had  fallen  to  the  ground, 
tested  its  strength,  and  found  it  firm  enough  to  bear  sev- 
eral persons.  He  looked  round,  particularly  at  the  wing 
not  yet  gained  by  the  flames,  and  exclaimed  in  a  loud 
voice.: 

''The  fire  is  intentional!  It  is  done  on  purpose.  See 
mere  !  a  man  is  squatting  down  and  pushing  a  brand  into 
the  wood-work." 

He  leaped  back  into  the  room,  which  was  now  filling 
with  smoke,  snatched  the  kings  bow  and  quiver,  which 
he  himself  had  hung  up  at  the  bed-head,  took  careful  aim, 
and  with  one  cry  the  incendiary  fell  dead. 


462 


UARDA. 


A  few  hours  later  the  dwarf  Nemu  was  found  with  the 
charioteers  arrow  through  his  heart.  After  setting  fire 
to  Bent-Anat's  rooms,  he  had  determined  to  lay  a  brand 
to  the  wing  of  the  palace  where,  with  the  other  princes, 
Uarda's  friend  Rameri  was  sleeping. 

Mena  had  again  leaped  out  of  window,  and  was  estimat- 
ing the  height  of  the  leap  to  the  ground  ;  the  Pharaoh's 
room  was  getting  more  and  more  filled  with  smoke,  and 
flames  began  to  break  through  the  seams  of  the  boards. 
Outside  the  palace  as  well  as  within  every  one  was  waking 
up  to  terror  and  excitement. 

"  Fire  !  fire  !  an  incendiary  !  Help  !  Save  the  king  !  " 
cried  Kaschta,  who  rushed  on,  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
guards  whom  he  had  roused  ;  Uarda  had  flown  to  call 
Bent-Anat,  as  she  knew  the  way  to  her  room.  The  king 
had  got  on  to  the  parapet  outside  the  window  with  Mena, 
and  was  calling  to  the  soldiers. 

"  Half  of  you  get  into  the  house,  and  first  save  the 
princess ;  the  other  half  keep  the  fire  from  catching  the 
south  wing.    I  will  try  to  get  there." 

But  Nemu  s  brand  had  been  effectual,  the  flames 
flared  up,  and  the  soldiers  strained  every  nerve  to  conquer 
them.  Their  cries  mingled  with  the  crackling  andsnap- 
ping  of  the  dry  wood,  and  the  roar  of  the  flames,  with  the 
trumpet  calls  of  the  awakening  troops,  and  the  beating  of 
drums.  The  young  princes  appeared  at  a  window  ;  they 
had  tied  their  clothes  together  to  form  a  rope,  and  one  by 
one  escaped  down  it. 

Rameses  called  to  them  with  words  of  encouragement, 
but  he  himself  was  unable  to  take  any  means  of  escape, 
for  though  the  parapet  on  which  he  stood  was  tolerably 
wide,  and  ran  round  the  whole  of  the  building,  at  about 
every  six  feet  it  was  broken  by  spaces  of  about  ten  paces. 
The  fire  was  spreading  and  growing,  and  glowing  sparks 
flew  round  him  and  his  companion  like  chaff  from  the 
winnowing  fan. 

"  Bring  some  straw  and  make  a  heap  below  !  "  shouted 
Rameses,  above  the  roar  of  the  conflagration.  ' '  There  is 
no  escape  but  by  a  leap  down." 

The  flames  rushed  out  of  the  windows  of  the  king's 
room,  it  was  impossible  to  return  to  it,  but  neither  the 
king  or  Mena  lost  his  self-possession.    When  Mena  saw 


UARDA.  463 


the  twelve  princes  descending  to  the  ground  he  shouted 
hmugh  his  hands,  using  them  as  a  speaking-trumpet  and 
called  to  Rameri,  who  was  about  to  slip  down  the  rope 
they  had  contrived,  the  last  of  them  all : 

"Pull  up  the  rope,  and  keep  it  from   injury  till  I 

C°Rameri  obeyed  the  order,  and  before  Rameses  could  in- 
terfere, Mena  had  sprung  across  the  space  which^ divided 
one  p iece  of  the  balustrade  from  another.  The  kings  . 
blood  ran  cold  as  Mena,  a  second  time,  ventured  he 
frio-htful  leap  ;  one  false  step  and  he  must  meet  with  the 
same  fearful  death  as  his  enemy  Paaker. 

While  the  by-standers  watched  him  in  breathless  silence 
-while  the  c/ackling  of  the  wood,  the  roar  of  the ^ames 
and  the  dull  thump  of  falling  timber  mingled  with  the 
Sant  chant  of  the  procession  of  priests  who  were  now 
approaching  the  burning  pile,  Nefert,  roused  by  little 
Schemu  knelt  on  the  bare  ground  in  fervent  and  passion- 
ate prayer  to  the  saving  gods.    She  watched  every  move- 
ment of  he  husband,  and  she  bit  her  lips  till  they  bled  not 
to  cry  out    She  felt  that  he  was  acting  bravely  and  nobly, 
and  that  he  was  lost  if  even  for  an  instant  his  attention 
were  distracted  from  his  perilous  footing.    Now  he  had 
Cached  Rameri  and  bound  one  end  of  the  rope  made  out 
of  cloaks  and  handkerchiefs  round  his  body  ;  then  he  gave 
the  other  end  to  Rameri,  who  held  fast  to  the  window-siU 
and  prepared  once  more  to  spring.    Nefert  saw  him  ready 
to  leap  she  pressed  her  hands  upon  her  lips  to  repress  a 
scream   sheshut  her  eyes,  and  when  she  opened  them 
again  he  had  accomplished  the  first  leap,  and  at  the 
second  the  gods  preserved  him  from  falling  ;  at  the  Mvd 
?he  king  held  out  his  hand  to  him  and  saved  him  from  a 
fall     Then  Rameses  helped  him  to  unfasten  the  rope 
from  round  his  waist  to  fasten  it  to  the  end  of  a  beam. 

Rameri  now  loosened  the  other  end  and  followed  Mena  s 
example;  he,  too,  practiced  in  athlet  e  exercises  in  the 
scW  of  the  House  of  Seti,  succeeded  in  accomplishing 
£e  three  tremendous  leaps,  and  soon  the  king  stood I  m 
safety  on  the  ground.  Rameri  followed  him,  and  then 
Mena,  whose  faithful  wife  went  to  meet  him  and  wiped 
the  sweat  from  his  throbbing  temples. 

Rameses  hurried  to  the  north  wing,  where  Bent-Anat 


464 


UARDA. 


had  her  apartments  ;  he  found  her  safe  indeed,  but  wring- 
ing her  hands,  for  her  young  favorite  Uarda  had  disap- 
peared in  the  flames  after  she  had  roused  her  and  saved 
her  with  her  father's  assistance. 

Kaschta  ran  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  burning; 
pavilion,  tearing  his  hair  ;  now  calling  his  child  in  tones 
ot  anguish,  now  holding  his  breath  to  listen  for  an  answer 
lorush  at  random  into  the  immense  burning  building- 
would  have  been  madness.  The  king  observed  the  un- 
happy man  and  set  him  to  lead  the  soldiers,  whom  he  had 
commanded  to  hew  down  the  wall  of  Bent-Anat  s  room 
so  as  to  rescue  the  girl  who  might  be  within.  Kaschta 
seized  an  ax  and  raised  it  to  strike. 

But  he  thought  that  he  heard  blows  from  within  against 
one  of  the  shutters  of  the  ground  floor,  which  bv  Katuti's 
orders  had  been  securely  closed ;  he  followed  the  sound- 
he  was  not  mistaken  ;  the  knocking  could  be  distinctly 
heard.  J 

With  all  his  might  he  struck  the  edge  of  the  ax  between 
the  shutter  and  the  wall  ;  a  stream  of  smoke  poured  out  of 
the  new  outlet,  and  before  him,  enveloped  in  its  black 
clouds,  stood  a  staggering  man,  who  held  Uarda  in  his 
arms.  Kaschta  sprang  forward  into  the  midst  of  the  smoke 
and  sparks  and  snatched  his  daughter  from  the  arms  of 
her  preserver,  who  fell  half-smothered  on  his  knees 
He  rushed  out  into  the  air  with  his  light  and  precious 
burden,  and  as  he  pressed  his  lips  to  her  closed  eyelids  his 
eyes  were  wet,  and  there  rose  up  before  him  the  image 
of  the  woman  who  bore  her,  the  wife  that  had  stood  as 
the  solitary  green  palm-tree  in  the  desert  waste  of  his 
life  But  only  for  a  few  seconds— Bent-Anat  herself  took 
Uarda  into  her  care  and  he  hastened  back  to  the  burning 
house.  s 

He  had  recognized  his  daughter  s  preserver  ;  it  was  the 
physician  Nebsecht,  who  had  not  quitted  the  princess 
since  their  meeting  on  Sinai,  and  had  found  a  place  amono- 
her  suite  as  her  personal  physician.  * 

The  fresh  air  had  rushed  into  the  room  through  the 
opening  of  the  shutter,  the  broad  flames  streamed  out  of 
the  windows,  but  still  Nebsecht  was.  alive,  for  his  "roans 
could  be  heard  through  the  smoke.  Once  more  Kaschta 
rushed  toward  the  window  ;  the  by-standers  could  see  that 


UARDA. 


465 


the  ceiling  of  the  room  was  about  to  fall,  and  called  out  to 
warn  him,  but  he  was  already  astride  the  sill. 

"I  signed  myself  his  slave  with  my  blood,"  he 
cried.  "  Twice  he  has  saved  my  child,  and  now  I  will 
pay  my  debt,"  and  he  disappeared  into  the  burning 
room. 

He  soon  reappeared  with  Nebsecht  in  his  arms,  wnose 
robe  was  already  scorched  by  the  flames.  He  could  be 
seen  approaching  the  window  with  his  heavy  burden  ;  a 
hundred  soldiers,  and  with  them  Pentaur,  pressed  for- 
ward to  help  him,  and  took  the  senseless  leech  out  of  the 
arms  of  the  soldier,  who  lifted  him  over  the  window-sill. 

Kaschta  was  on  the  point  of  following  him,  but  before 
he  could  swing  himself  over,  the  beams  above  gave  way 
and  fell,  burying  the  brave  son  of  the  paraschites.  _ 

Pentaur  had  his  insensible  friend  carried  to  his  tent, 
and  helped  the  physicians  to  bind  up  his  burns. 

When  the  cry  of  fire  had  been  first  raised,  Pentaur  was 
sitting  in  earnest  conversation  with  the  high-priest  ;  he 
had  learned  that  he  was  not  the  son  of  a  gardener,  but  a 
descendant  of  one  of  the  noblest  families  in  the  land. 
The  foundations  of  life  seemed  to  be  subverted  under  his 
feet  ;  Ameni's  revelation  lifted  him  out  of  the  dust  and 
set  him  on  the  marble  floor  of  a  palace  ;  and  yet  Pentaur 
was  neither  excessively  surprised  nor  inordinately  re- 
joiced ;  he  was  so  well  used  to  find  his  joys  and  sufferings 
depend  on  the  man  within  him,  and  not  on  the  circum- 
stances without. 

As  soon  as  he  heard  the  cry  of  fire  he  hastened  to  the 
burning  pavilion  and  when  he  saw  the  king's  danger,  he 
set  himself  at  the  head  of  a  number  of  soldiers  who  had 
hurried  up  from  the  camp,  intending  to  venture  an. 
attempt  to  save  Rameses  from  the  inside  of  the  house. 
Among  those  who  followed  him  in  this  hopeless  effort  was 
Katuti's  reckless  son,  who  had  distinguished  himself  by 
his  valor  before  Kadesh,  and  who  hailed  this  opportunity 
of  again  proving  his  courage.  Falling  walls  choked  up 
the  way  in  front  of  these  brave  adventurers  ;  but  it  was 
not  till  several  had  fallen  choked  or  struck  down  by 
burning  logs  that  they  made  up  their  minds  to  retire  ;  one 
of  the  first  that  was  killed  was  Katuti's  son,  Nefert's 
brother. 
30 


466 


UARDA. 


Uarda  had  been  carried  into  the  nearest  tent.  Her 
pretty  head  lay  in  Bent-Anat's  lap,  and  Nefert  tried  to 
restore  her  to  animation  by  rubbing  her  temples  with 
strong  essences.  Presently  the  girls  lips  moved :  with 
returning  consciousness  all  she  had  seen  and  suffered 
during  the  last  hour  or  two  recurred  to  her  mind ;  she  felt 
herself  rushing  through  the  camp  with  her  father,  hurry- 
ing through  the  corridor  to  the  princess'  rooms,  while  he 
broke  in  the  doors  closed  by  Katuti  s  orders  ;  she  saw  Bent- 
Anat  as  she  roused  her,  and  conducted  her  to  safety  ;  she 
remembered  her  horror  when,  just  as  she  reached  the 
door,  she  discovered  that  she  had  left  in  her  chest  her 
jewel,  the  only  relic  of  her  lost  mother,  and  her  rapid 
return,  which  was  observed  by  no  one  but  by  the  leech 
Nebsecht. 

Again  she  seemed  to  live  through  the  anguish  she  had 
felt  till  she  once  more  had  the  trinket  safe  in  her  bosom, 
the  horror  that  fell  upon  her  when  she  found  her  escape 
impeded  by  smoke  and  flames,  and  the  weakness  which 
overcame  her  ;  and  she  felt  as  if  the  strange  white-robed 
priest  once  more  raised  her  in  his  arms.  She  remembered 
the  tenderness  of  his  eyes  as  he  looked  into  hers,  and  she 
smiled  half  gratefully  but  half  displeased  at  the  tender  kiss 
which  had  been  pressed  on  her  lips  before  she  found  her- 
self in  her  fathers  strong  arms. 

' '  How  sweet  she  is  !  "  said  Bent-Anat.  ' < 1  believe  poor 
Nebsecht  is  right  in  saying  that  her  mother  was  the 
daughter  of  some  great  man  among  the  foreign  people. 
Look  what  pretty  little  hands  and  feet,  and  her  skin  is  as 
clear  as  Phoenician  glass. " 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

While  the  friends  were  occupied  in  restoring  Uarda  to 
animation,  and  in  taking  affectionate  care  of  her,  Katuti 
was  walking  restlessly  backward  and  forward  in  her 
tent. 

Soon  after  she  had  slipped  out  for  the  purpose  of  setting 
fire  to  the  palace,  Scherau's  cry  had  waked  up  Nefert,  and 


UARDA. 


467 


Katuti  found  her  daughters  bed  empty  when,  with  black- 
ened hands  and  limbs  trembling  with  agitation,  she  came 
back  from  her  criminal  task. 

Now  she  waited  in  vain  for  Nemu  and  Paaker. 

Her  steward,  whom  she  sent  on  repeated  messages  of 
inquiry  whether  the  regent  had  returned,  constantly 
brought  back  a  negative  answer,  and  added  the  informa- 
tion that  he  had  found  the  body  of  old  Hekt  lying  on  the 
open  ground.  The  widow's  heart  sank  with  fear ;  she 
was  full  of  dark  forebodings  while  she  listened  to  the 
shouts  of  the  people  engaged  in  putting  out  the  fire, 
the  roll  of  drums,  and  the  trumpets  of  the  soldiers  .call- 
ing each  other  to  the  help  of  the  king.  To  these  sounds 
now  was  added  the  dull  crash  of  falling  timbers  and 
walls. 

A  faint  smile  played  upon  her  thin  lips,  and  she  thought 
to  herself  :  ' £  There — that  perhaps  fell  on  the  king,  and 
my  precious  son-in-law,  who  does  not  deserve  such  a  fate 
— if  we  had  not  fallen  into  disgrace,  and  if  since  the  occur- 
rences before  Kadesh  he  did  not  cling  to  his  indulgent 
lord  as  a  calf  follows  a  cow. " 

She  gathered  fresh  courage,  and  fancied  she  could  hear 
the  voice  of  Ethiopian  troops  hailing  the  regent  as  king — 
could  see  Ani  decorated  with  the  crown  of  Upper  and 
Lower  Egypt,  seated  on  Rameses'  throne,  and  herself  by 
his  side  in  rich  though  unpretending  splendor.  She 
pictured  herself  with  her  son  and  daughter  as  enjoying 
Mena's  estate,  freed  from  debt  and  increased  by  Ani's  gen- 
erosity, and  then  a  new,  intoxicating  hope  came  into  her 
mind.  Perhaps  already  at  this  moment  her  daughter  was 
a  widow,  and  why  should  she  not  be  so  fortunate  as  to 
induce  Ani  to  select  her  child,  the  prettiest  woman  in 
Thebes,  for  his  wife  ?  Then  she,  the  mother  of  the  queen, 
would  be  indeed  unimpeachable  and  all-powerful.  She 
had  long  since  come  to  regard  the  pioneer  as  a  tool  to  be 
cast  aside,  nay,  soon  to  be  utterly  destroyed  ;  his  wealth 
might  probably  at  some  future  time  be  bestowed  upon  her 
son,  who  had  distinguished  himself  at  Kadesh,  and  whom 
Ani  must  before  long  promote  to  be  his  charioteer  or  the 
commander  of  the  chariot  warriors. 

Flattered  by  these  fancies,  she  forgot  every  care  as  she 
walked  faster  and  faster  to  and  fro  in  her  tent.  Suddenly 


468 


UARDA. 


the  steward,  whom  she  had  this  time  sent  to  the  very 
scene  of  the  fire,  rushed  into  the  tent,  and  with  every 
token  of  terror  broke  to  her  the  news  that  the  king  and 
his  charioteer  were  hanging  in  mid-air  on  a  narrow  wooden 
parapet,  and  that  unless  some  miracle  happened  they 
must  inevitably  be  killed.  It  was  said  that  incendiaries 
had  occasioned  the  fire,  and  he,  the  steward,  had  hastened 
forward  to  prepare  her  for  evil  news  as  the  mangled  body 
of  the  pioneer,  which  had  been  identified  by  the  ring  on 
his  finger,  and  the  poor  little  corpse  of  Nemu,  pierced 
through  by  an  arrow,  had  been  carried  past  him. 
Katuti  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"And  the  kings  sons ?"  she  asked,  with  an  anxious 
sigh. 

"  The  gods  be  praised,"  replied  the  steward,  "  they  suc- 
ceeded in  letting  themselves  down  to  the  ground  by  a 
rope  made  of  their  garments  knotted  together,  and  some 
were  already  safe  when  I  came  away." 

Katuti's  face  clouded  darkly  ;  once  more  she  sent  forth 
her  messenger.  The  minutes  of  his  absence  seemed  like 
days  ;  her  bosom  heaved  in  stormy  agitation,  then  for  a 
moment  she  controlled  herself,  and  again  her  heart  seemed 
to  cease  beating — she  closed  her  eyes  as  if  her  anguish  of 
anxiety  was  too  much  for  her  strength.  At  last,  long 
after  sunrise,  the  steward  reappeared. 

Pale,  trembling,  hardly  able  to  control  his  voice,  he 
Vhrew  himself  on  the  ground  at  her  feet,  crying  out  : 

"Alas!  this  night!  prepare  for  the  worst,  mistress! 
May  Isis  comfort  thee,  who  saw  thy  son  fall  in  the  service 
of  his  king  and  father  !  May  Amon,  the  great  god  of 
Thebes,  give  thee  strength  !  Our  pride,  our  hope,  thy  son 
is  slain,  killed  by  a  falling  beam." 

Pale  and  still  as  if  frozen,  Katuti  shed  not  a  tear ;  for  a 
minute  she  did  not  speak,  then  she  asked  in  a  dull  tone  : 

"  And  Rameses  ?  " 

"The  gods  be  praised  !  "  answered  the  servant,  "  he  is 
safe — rescued  by  Men  a  !  " 
"And  Ani  ?  " 

"Burned! — they  found  his  body  disfigured  out  of  all 
recognition  ;  they  knew  him  again  by  the  jewels  he  wore 
at  the  banquet." 

Katuti  gazed  into  vacancy,  and  the  steward  started 


UARDA. 


469 


back  as  from  a  mad  woman  when,  instead  of  bursting  into 
tears,  she  clenched  her  small  jeweled  hands,  shook  her  fists 
in  the  air,  and  broke  into  loud,  wild  laughter;  then, 
startled  at  the  sound  of  her  own  voice,  she  suddenly 
became  silent  and  fixed  her  eyes  vacantly  on  the  ground. 
She  neither  saw  nor  heard  that  the  captain  of  the  watch, 
who  was  called  "the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  king,"  had  come 
in  through  the  door  of  her  tent,  followed  by  several  officers 
and  a  scribe  ;  he  came  up  to  her,  and  called  her  by  her 
name.  Not  till  the  steward  timidly  touched  her  did  she 
collect  her  senses  like  one  suddenly  roused  from  deep  sleep. 

"What  are  you  doing  in  my  tent?"  she  asked  the 
officer,  drawing  herself  up  haughtily. 

"In  the  name  of  the  chief  judge  of  Thebes,"  said  the 
captain  of  the  watch,  solemnly,  "I  arrest  you,  and  hail 
you  before  the  high  court  of  justice,  to  defend  yourself 
against  the  grave  and  capital  charges  of  high  treason, 
attenuate  regicide,  and  incendiarism." 

"I  am  ready,"  said  the  widow,  and  a  scornful  smile 
curled  her  lips.  Then  with  her  usual  dignity  she  pointed 
to  a  seat  and  said  : 

"Be  seated  while  I  dress." 

The  officer  bowed,  but  remained  standing  at  the  door  of 
the  tent  while  she  arranged  her  black  hair,  set  her  diadem 
on  her  brow,  opened  her  little  ointment-chest,  and  took 
from  it  a  small  phial  of  the  rapid  poison  strychnine,  which 
some  months  before  she  had  procured  through  Nemu  from 
the  old  witch  Hekt. 

"My  mirror  ! "  she  called  to  a  maid-servant,  who  squatted 
in  a  corner  of  the  tent.  She  held  the  metal  mirror 
so  as  to  conceal  her  face  from  the  captain  of  the  watch, 
put  the  little  flask  to  her  lips  and  emptied  it  at  one 
mouthful.  The  mirror  fell  from  her  hand,  she  staggered, 
a  deadly  convulsion  seized  her — the  officer  rushed  forward, 
and  while  she  fixed  her  dying  look  upon  him  she  said  : 

"My  game  is  lost,  but  Ameni — tell  Ameni  that  he  will 
not  win  either. " 

She  fell  forward,  murmured  Neferfs  name,  struggled 
convulsively,  and  was  dead. 

When  the  draught  of  happiness  which  the  gods  prepare 
for  some  few  men  seems  to  flow  clearest  and  purest,  Fate 
rarely  fails  to  infuse  into  it  some  drop  of  bitterness. 


47° 


UARDA. 


And  yet  we  should  not  therefore  disdain  it,  for  it  is  that 
very  drop  of  bitterness  which  warns  us  to  drink  of  the  joys 
of  life  thankfully,  and  in  moderation. 

The  perfect  happiness  of  Mena  and  Nefert  was  troubled 
by  the  fearful  death  of  Katuti,  but  both  felt  as  if  they  now 
for  the  first  time  knew  the  full  strength  of  their  love  for 
each  other.  Mena  had  to  make  up  to  his  wife  for  the  loss 
of  mother  and  brother,  and  Nefert  to  restore  to  her  hus- 
band much  that  he  had  been  robbed  of  by  her  relatives, 
and  they  felt  that  they  had  met  again  not  merely  for 
pleasure,  but  to  be  to  each  other  a  support  and  a 
consolation. 

Rameses  quitted  the  scene  of  the  fire  full  of  gratitude  to 
the  gods  who  had  shown  such  grace  to  him  and  his.  He 
ordered  numberless  steers  to  be  sacrificed,  and  thanks- 
giving festivals  to  be  held  throughout  the  land  ;  but  he 
was  cut  to  the  heart  by  the  betrayal  to  which  he  had  fallen 
a  victim.  He  longed — as  he  always  did  in  moments  when 
the  balance  of  his  mind  had  been  disturbed — for  an  hour 
of  solitude,  and  retired  to  the  tent  which  had  been  hastily 
erected  for  him.  He  could  not  bear  to  enter  the  splendid 
pavilion  which  had  been  Ani's  ;  it  seemed  to  him  infested 
with  the  leprosy  of  falsehood  and  treason. 

For  an  hour  he  remained  alone,  and  weighed  the  worst 
he  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  men  against  that  which  was 
good  and  cheering,  and  he  found  that  the  good  far  out- 
weighed the  evil.  He  vividly  realized  the  magnitude  of 
his  debt  of  gratitude,  not  to  the  immortals  only,  but  also 
to  his  earthly  friends,  as  he  recalled  every  moment  of  this 
morning's  experience. 

\ '  Gratitude, "  he  said  to  himself,  - '  was  impressed  on  you 
by  your  mother  ;  you  yourself  have  taught  your  children 
to  be  grateful.  Piety  is  gratitude  to  the  gods,  and  he  only 
is  really  generous  who  does  not  forget  the  gratitude  he 
owes  to  men." 

He  had  thrown  off  all  bitterness  of  feeling  when  he  sent 
for  Bent-Anat  and  Pentaur  to  be  brought  to  his  tent.  He 
made  his  daughter  relate  at  full  length  how  the  poet  had 
won  her  love,  and  though  he  frequently  interrupted  her 
with  blame  as  well  as  praise,  his  heart  was  full  of  fatherly 
joy  when  he  laid  his  darling's  hand  in  that  of  the  poet. 

Bent-Anat  laid  her  head  in  full  content  on  the  breast  of 

\ 


UARDA. 


471 


the  noble  Assa's  grandson,  but  she  would  have  clung  not 
less  fondly  to  Pentaur  the  gardener's  son.  - 

"  Now  you  are  one  of  my  own  children/'  said  Rameses  ; 
and  he  desired  the  poet  to  remain  with  him  while  he  com- 
manded the  heralds,  ambassadors  and  interpreters  to  bring 
to  him  the  Asiatic  princes,  who  were  detained  in  their 
own  tents  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Nile,  that  he  might 
conclude  with  them  such  a  treaty  of  peace  as  might  con- 
tinue valid  for  generations  to  come.  Before  they  arrived, 
the  young  princes  came  to  their  father  s  tent,  and  learned 
from  his  own  lips  the  noble  birth  of  Pentaur,  and  that 
they  owed  it  to  their  sister  that  in  him  they  saw  another 
brother  ;  they  welcomed  him  with  sincere  affection,  and 
all,  especially  Rameri,  warmly  congratulated  the  hand- 
some and  worthy  couple. 

The  king  then  called  Rameri  forward  from  among  his 
brothers,  and  thanked  him  before  them  all  for  his  brave 
conduct  during  the  fire.  He  had  already  been  invested 
with  the  robe  of  manhood  after  the  battle  of  Kadesh  ;  he 
was  now  appointed  to  the  command  of  a  legion  of  chariot- 
warriors,  and  the  order  of  the  lion  to  wear  round  his  neck 
was  bestowed  on  him  for  his  bravery.*  The  prince  knelt, 
and  thanked  his  father  ;  but  Rameses  took  the  curly  head 
in  his  hands  and  said  : 

"You  have  won  praise  and  reward  by  your  splendid 
deeds  from  the  father  whom  you  have  saved  and  filled 
with  pride.  But  the  king,  who  must  uphold  the  laws  and 
guide  the  destiny  of  this  land,  the  king  must  blame  you, 
nay  perhaps  punish  you.  You  could  not  yield  to  the  dis- 
cipline of  school,  where  we  all  must  learn  to  obey  if  we 
would  afterward  exercise  our  authority  with  moderation, 
and  without  any  orders  you  left  Egypt  and  joined  the 
army.  You  showed  the  courage  and  strength  of  a  man, 
but  the  folly  of  a  boy  in  all  that  regards  prudence  and  fore- 
sight— things  harder  to  learn  for  the  son  of  a  race  of  heroes 
than  mere  hitting  and  slashing  at  random  ;  you,  without 
experience,  measured  yourself  against  masters  of  the  art 

*  The  naval  officer  Ahmes  relates  in  the  biographical  inscription  in  his 
tomb  at  el  Kab  that  he  was  invested  with  the  robe  of  manhood,  and 
"  took  a  house,"  or  in  other  words  married.  The  "  order  of  the  lion  " 
is  mentioned  as  having  been  bestowed  on  the  commander-in-chief,  Amea 
cm  Heb,  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Thotmes  III. 


472  UARDA. 


of  war,  and  what  was  the  consequence  ?  Twice  vou  fell 
a  prisoner  into  the  hands  of  the  enlmy,  and  I  had  to  Lnsom 

h^7^eJ!Ug  °f  jh!?  Da-n^ids  ^ave  y°u  UP  in  exchange  for 

o  hi  I Sd  '  hDt  -eJreS  Since  in  the  restoration 
ot  his  child  ;  but  we,  in  losing  her,  lost  the  most  powerful 

cTs't  o?  th?T£  Sea"far[ng  nati0nS  °f  the  Elands  and 
fn  mi  L the"°fthera  sea,  who  are  constantly  increasing 
in  might  and  daring,  and  so  diminished  our  chances  of 
securing  a  solid  and  abiding  peace. 

«  Thus— through  the  careless  willfulness  of  a  boy  the 
fchteved0  TtS  6ndan?ered  which  I  had  hoped  to^havt 
achieved  It  grieves  me  particularly  to  humiliate  vour 
spirit  to-day  when  I  have  had  so  much  reason  to  encour 
age  you  with  praise.  Nor  will  I  punish  you,  only  warn 
you  and  teach  you.  The  mechanism  of  the  state  is  liS 
the  working  of  the  cogged  wheels  which  move  he  water! 
works  on  the  shore  of  the  Nile-if  one  tooth  is  missing  he 

laoo  toTum  it"  Strdfll WeV6r  Str01^  the  beastsgtLt 
labor  to  turn  it     Each  of  you— bear  this  in  mind— is  a 

aTenT  nSt*!  ^  ^  °f  the  State>  a»d  can  ^ 

mi  end  only  by  acting  unresistingly  in  obedience  to  the 

motive  power  Now  rise!  we  may  perhaps  succeed  in 
obtaining  good  security  from  the  Asiatic  king,  though  we 
have  lost  our  hostage."  5  b 

Heralds  at  this  moment  marched  into  the  tent  and  an- 
nounced that  the  representative  of  the  Cheta  king  Zd  the 
allied  princes  were  in  attendance  in  the  coundl-tent 
Rameses  put  on  the  crown  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt  and 
all  his  roya  adornments  ;  the  chamberlain  who  carried  the 
K  ^  hlS  Powe\and  his  head  scribe  with  hisdecon^ 
tion  of  plumes,  marched  before  him,  while  his  sons  the 
commanders-in-chief,  and  the  interpreters,  followed  him 
Rameses  took  his  seat  on  his  throne  with  great  dign  ty 
and  the  sternest  gravity  marked  his  demeanor  while  he 

ThVee^^-hTage,futne  co'^ered  and  fettered  kings 
t  he  Asiat  cs  kissed  the  earth  at  his  feet,  only  the  kin- 
of  the  Danaids  did  no  more  than  bow  before  him.  Rame- 
ses looked  wrathfully  at  him,  and  ordered  the  interpreter 
to  ask  him  whether  he  considered  himself  conquered  or  n  o 
and  the  answer  was  given  that  he  had  not  come  before  the 
Pharaoh  as  a  prisoner,  and  that  the  obeisance  which  RanS 


UARDA. 

473 


any  of  the  Ian**  Egy^t  aSd^J?,^- 
call  a  degraded  man  his  friend  ?  to 

wear  If  you  persist  in  your  refusal,  you  and  you?peonle 
will  have  no  part  in  the  favorable  conditions  that  T  ?m 
prepared  to  grant  to  these,  your  allies."  &m 

*S^J^^P78et?ed  his  di^ined  demeanor, 

he  had  come  intending  to  procure  peace  at  an v  cost  but 
ma, 'sVetTo?  brf  WWOuld  ^el  in  the  d^t  a1' any 
|~n^yf^  o 

that  his  charioteer  Mena  had  treated  hfs  daughte  noTS 
wen,  „„  without  Jndudi/,  rS  ywiS,  «  fas'  £ 


UARDA. 

474 


be  expected  that  the  peace  which  he  was  so  earnestly  striv- 
ing: for  would  before  long  be  again  disturbed  ;  and  he 
nevertheless  felt  that,  out  of  regard  for  the other  con- 
quered princes,  he  could  not  forego  any  jot  of  the  humiha- 
?ion  which  he  had  required  of  their  king,  and  which  he 
believed  to  be  due  to  himself-though  he  had  been 
greatly  impressed  by  his  dignified  manliness  and  by  the 
bravery  of  the  troops  that  had  followed  him  into  the 

fiGThe  sun  was  sinking  when  Mena,  who  that  day  had 
leave  of  absence  from  the  king,  came  in  great  excitement 
up  to  the  table  where  the  princes  were  sitting  and  craved 
the  king's  permission  to  make  an  important  communica- 
tion Rameses  signed  consent ;  the  charioteer  wentclose 
up  to  him  and  they  held  a  short  but  eager  conversation  in 

a  Presently  the  king  stood  up  and  said,  speaking  to  his 

da-Thisr  day  which  began  so  horribly  will  end  joyfully. 
The  fair  child  whom  you  to-day  restored  to  life,  but  who 
so  nearly  fell  a  victim  to  the  flames,  is  of  noble  origin. 

"She  comes  of  a  royal  house,"  said  Ramen -disrespect- 
fully interrupting  his  father.  Rameses  ^ ^  ^  hirJ 
reprovingly.     "  My  sons  are  silent,    he  said,     till  1  ask 

^TneprTcfcolored  and  looked  down  ;  the  king  signed 
to  Bent-Anat  and  Pentaur,  begged  his  guests  to  excuse 
him  for  a  short  time,  and  was  about  to  leave  £e  tent  but 
Bent-Anat  went  up  to  him,  and  whispered  a  few  words  to 
Mm  with  referenced  her  brother.  Not  m  vain  :  thekinj 
paused  and  reflected  for  a  few  moments  ;  then  he  looked 
atRameri,  who  stood  abashed,  and  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot 
where  he  stood.  The  king  called  his  name  and  beckoned 
him  to  follow  him. 


UARDA- 


475 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

Rameri  had  rushed  off  to  summon  the  physicians  while 
Bent-Anat  was  endeavoring  to  restore  the  rescued  Uarda 
to  consciousness,  and  he  followed  them  into  his  sisters 
tent  He  gazed  with  tender  anxiety  into  the  face  of  the 
half-suffocated  girl,  who,  though  uninjured,  still  remained 
unconscious,  and  took  her  hand  to  press  his  hps  to  her 
slender  fingers,  but  Bent-Anat  pushed  him  gently  away  ; 
then  in  low  tones  that  trembled  with  emotion  he  implored 
her  not  to  send  him  away,  and  told  her  how  dear  the  girl 
whose  life  he  had  saved  in  the  fight  in  the  Necropolis  had 
become  to  him— how,  since  his  departure  for  Syria,  he  had 
never  ceased  to  think  of  her  night  and  day,  and  that  he 
desired  to  make  her  his  wife. 

Bent-Anat  was  startled ;  she  reminded  her  brother  of 
the  stain  that  lay  on  the  child  of  the  paraschites  and 
through  which  she  herself  had  suffered  so  much;  but 
Rameri  answered  eagerly  :  # 

"In  Egypt  rank  and  birth  are  derived  through  the 

mother,  and  Kaschta's  dead  wife  " 

"I  know,"  interrupted  Bent-Anat.  "Nebsecht  has  al- 
ready told  us  that  she  was  a  dumb  woman,  a  prisoner  of 
war,  and  I  myself  believe  that  she  was  of  no  mean  house, 
for  Uarda  is  nobly  formed  in  face  and  figure."        ^  . 

"  And  her  skin  is  as  fine  as  the  petal  of  a  flower,  cried 
Rameri.  "  Her  voice  is  like  the  ring  of  pure  gold,  and— 
oh  !  look,  she  is  moving.  Uarda,  open  your  eyes,  Uarda  ! 
When  the  sun  rises  we  praise  the  gods.  Open  your  eyes  ! 
how  thankful,  how  joyful  I  shall  be  if  those  two  suns  only 
rise  again." 

Bent-Anat  smiled,  and  drew  her  brother  away  trom  the 
heavily  breathing  girl,  for  a  leech  came  into  the  tent  to 
say  that  a  warm  medicated  bath  had  been  prepared  and 
was  ready  for  Uarda.  The  princess  ordered  her  waiting- 
women  to  help  lift  the  senseless  girl,  and  was  preparing 
to  follow  her  when  a  message  from  her  father  required 
her  presence  in  his  tent.    She  could  guess  at  the  signifi- 


476 


UARDA. 


cance  of  this  command,  and  desired  Rameri  to  leave  her 
that  she  might  dress  in  festal  garments  ;  she  could  entrust 
Uarda  to  the  care  of  Nefert  during  her  absence. 

€\  She  is  kind  and  gentle,  and  she  knows  Uarda  so  well/' 
said  the  princess,  "and  the  necessity  of  caring  for  this 
dear  little  creature  will  do  her  good.  Her  heart  is  torn 
between  sorrow  for  her  lost  relations,  and  joy  at  being 
united  again  to  her  love.  My  father  has  given  Mena  leave 
of  absence  from  his  office  for  several  days,  and  I  have  ex- 
cused her  from  her  attendance  on  me,  for  the  time  during 
which  we  were  so  necessary  to  each  other  really  came  to 
an  end  yesterday.  I  feel,  Rameri,  as  if  we,  after  our  es- 
cape, were  like  the  sacred  phoenix  which  comes  to  Helio- 
polis  and  burns  itself  to  death  only  to  soar  again  from  its 
ashes  young  and  radiant — blessed  and  blessing !  " 

When  her  brother  had  left  her,  she  threw  herself  before 
the  image  of  her  mother  and  prayed  long  and  earnestly  ; 
she  poured  an  offering  of  sweet  perfume  on  the  little  altar 
of  the  goddess  Hathor,  which  always  accompanied  her, 
had  dressed  in  happy  preparation  for  meeting  her  father, 
and — she  did  not  conceal  it  from  herself — Pentaur,  then 
she  went  for  a  moment  to  Nefert  s  tent  to  beg  her  to  take 
good  care  of  Uarda,  and  finally  obeyed  the  summons  of 
the  king,  who,  as  we  know,  fulfilled  her  utmost  hopes. 

As  Rameri  quitted  his  sister's  tent  he  saw  the  watch 
seize  and  lead  away  a  little  boy  ;  the  child  cried  bitterly, 
and  the  prince  in  a  moment  recognized  the  little  sculptor 
Scherau,  who  had  betrayed  the  regent's  plot  to  him  and 
to  Uarda,  and  whom  he  had  already  fancied  he  had  seen 
about  the  place.  The  guards  had  driven  him  away  several 
times  from  the  princess'  tent,  but  he  had  persisted  in  re- 
turning, and  this  obstinate  waiting  in  the  neighborhood 
had  aroused  the  suspicious  of  an  officer  ;  for  since  the  fire 
a  thousand  rumors  of  conspiracies  and  plots  against  the 
king  had  been  flying  about  the  camp.  Rameri  at  once 
freed  the  little  prisoner,  and  heard  from  him  that  it  was 
old  Hekt  who,  before  her  death,  had  sent  Kaschta  and  his 
daughter  to  the  rescue  of  the  king,  that  he  himself  had 
helped  to  rouse  the  troops,  that  now  he  had  no  home  and 
wished  to  go  to  Uarda. 

The  prince  himself  led  the  child  to  Nefert,  and  begged 
her  to  allow  him  to  see  Uarda,  and  to  let  him  stay  with 


UARDA. 


477 


her  servants  till  he  himself  returned  from  ms  fathers  tent. 

The  leeches  had  treated  Uarda  with  judgment,  tor 
under  the  influence  of  the  bath  she  recovered  her  senses  : 
when  she  had  been  dressed  again  in  fresh  garments,  and 
refreshed  by  the  essences  and  medicines  which  they  gave 
her  to  inhale  and  to  drink,  she  was  led  back  into  Nefert  s 
tent  where  Mena,  who  had  never  before  seen  her,  was 
astonished  at  her  peculiar  and  touching  beauty. 

"She  is  very  like  my  Danaid  princess,  he  said  to  his 
wife  •  "only  she  is  younger  and  much  prettier  than  she 

Little  Scherau  came  in  to  pay  his  respects  to  her,  and 
she  was  delighted  to  see  the  boy ;  still  she  was  sad,  and 
however  kindly  Nefert  spoke  to  her  she  remained  in  silent 
reverie,  while  from  time  to  time  a  large  tear  rolled  down 
her  cheek 

"You  have  lost  your  father!"  said  Nefert,  trying  to 
comfort  her.     "And  I,  my  mother  and  brother  both  in 

°n"  Kaschta  was  rough,  but,  oh  !  so  kind  !  "  replied  Uarda 
"He  was  always  so  fond  of  me  ;  he  was  like  the  fruit  ot 
the  doom  palm  ;  its  husk  is  hard  and  rough,  but  he  who 
knows  how  to  open  it  finds  the  sweet  pulp  within.  Now 
he  is  dead,  and  my  grandfather  and  grandmother  are  gone 
before  him,  and  I  am  like  the  green  leaf  that  I  saw  float- 
ing: on  the  waters  when  we  were  crossing  the  sea  ;  any- 
thing: so  forlorn  I  never  saw,  abandoned  by  all  it  belonged 
to  or  had  ever  loved,  the  sport  of  a  strange  element  in 
which  nothing  resembling  itself  ever  grew  or  ever  can 

^Nefert  kissed  her  forehead.  "You  have  friends,"  she 
said  "who  will  never  abandon  you." 

"I  know,  I  know!"  said  Uarda  thoughtfully,  "  and 
yet  I  am  alone— for  the  first  time  really  alone.  In  Thebes 
I  have  often  looked  after  the  wild  swans  as  they  passed 
across  the  sky  ;  one  flies  in  front,  then  comes  the  body  of 
the  wandering  party,  and  very  often,  far  behind,  a  soli- 
tary straggler  ;  and  this  last  one  I  call  lonely  although  he 
can  see  his  brethren  in  front  of  him.  But  when  the  hunt- 
ers have  shot  down  all  the  low-flying  loiterers,  and  the 
last  one  has  lost  sight  of  the  flock,  and  knows  that  he 
never  again  can  find  them  or  follow  them,  he  is  indeed  to 
be  pitied.    I  am  as  unhappy  as  the  abandoned  bird,  for  I 


478 


UARDA. 


have  lost  sight  to-day  of  all  that  I  belong  to,  and  I  am 
alone,  and  can  never  find  them  again." 

"  You  will  be  welcomed  into  some  more  noble  house 
than  that  to  which  you  belong  by  birth,"  said  Nefert,  to 
comfort  her. 

Uarda's  eyes  flashed,  and  she  said  proudly,  almost 
defiantly : 

"My  race  is  that  of  my  mother,  who  was  a  daughter  of 
no  mean  house  ;  the  reason  I  turned  back  this  morning 
and  went  into  the  smoke  and  fire  again  after  I  had  escaped 
once  into  the  open  air — what  I  went  back  for,  because  I 
felt  it  was  worth  dying  for,  was  my  mother's  legacy, 
which  I  had  put  away  with  my  holiday  dress  when  I  fol- 
lowed the  wretched  Nemu  to  his  tent.  I  threw  myself 
into  the  jaws  of  death  to  save  the  jewel,  but  certainly  not 
because  it  is  made  of  gold  and  precious  stones — for  I  do  not 
care  to  be  rich,  and  I  want  no  better  fare  than  a  bit  of  bread 
and  a  few  dates  and  a  cup  of  water — but  because  it  has 
a  name  on  it  in  strange  characters,  and  because  I  believe 
it  will  serve  to  discover  the  people  from  whom  my  mother 
was  carried  off  ;  and  now  I  have  lost  the  jewel,  and  with  it 
my  identity  and  my  hopes  and  my  happiness." 

Uarda  wept  aloud  ;  Nefert  put  her  arms  round  her  affec- 
tionately. 

"Poor  child  !  "  she  said,  "  was  your  treasure  destroyed 
in  the  flames  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Uarda,  eagerly.  "Isnatched  it  out  of 
my  chest  and  held  it  in  my  hand  when  Nebsecht  took  me 
in  his  arms,  and  I  still  had  it  in  my  hand  when  I  was 
lying  safe  on  the  ground  outside  the  burning  house,  and 
Bent-Anat  was  close  to  me,  and  Rameri  came  up.  I 
remember  seeing  him  as  if  I  were  in  a  dream,  and  I 
revived  a  little,  and  I  felt  the  jewel  in  my  fingers  then." 

"Then  it  was  dropped  on  the  way  to  the  tent?  "said 
Nefert. 

Uarda  nodded  ;  little  Scherau,  who  had  listened  to  the 
story,  gave  Uarda  a  loving  glance,  dimmed  with  tears,  and 
quietly  slipped  out  of  the  tent. 

Time  went  by  in  silence  ;  Uarda  sat  looking  at  the 
ground,  Nefert  and  Mena  held  each  other  s  hands,  but  the 
thoughts  of  all  three  were  with  the  dead.  A  perfect  still- 
ness reigned,  and  the  happiness  of  the  reunited  couple 


UARDA. 


479 


was  darkly  overshadowed  by  their  sorrow.  From  time  to 
time  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  trumpet-blast  from  the 
royal  tent  ;  first  when  the  Asiatic  princes  were  introduced 
into  the  council-tent,  then  when  the  Danaid  king  departed, 
and  lastly  when  the  Pharaoh  preceded  the  conquered 
princes  to  the  banquet. 

The  charioteer  remembered  how  his  master  had  restored 
him  to  dignity  and  honor,  for  the  sake  of  his  faithful 
wife,  and  gratefully  pressed  her  hand. 

Suddenly  there  was  noise  in  front  of  the  tent,  and  an 
officer  entered  to  announce  to  Mena  that  the  Danaid  king 
and  his  daughter,  accompanied  by  a  body-guard,  requested 
to  see  and  speak  with  him  and  Nefert. 

The  entrance  to  the  tent  was  thrown  wide  open.  Uarda 
retired  modestly  into '  the  background,  and  Mena  and 
Nefert  went  forward  hand  in  hand  to  meet  their  unex- 
pected guests. 

The  Greek  prince  was  an  old  man,  his  beard  and  thick 
hair  were  gray,  but  his  movements  were  youthful  and  light, 
though  dignified  and  deliberate.  His  even,  well-formed 
features  were  deeply  furrowed,  he  had  large,  bright,  clear- 
blue  eyes,  but  round  his  fine  lips  were  lines  of  care.  Close 
to  him  walked  his  daughter  ;  her  long  white  robe  striped 
with  purple  was  held  round  her  hips  by  a  golden  girdle, 
and  her  sunny  yellow  hair  fell  in  waving  locks  over  her 
neck  and  shoulders,  while  it  was  confined  by  a  diadem 
which  encircled  her  head  ;  she  was  of  middle  height,  and 
her  motions  were  measured  and  calm  like  her  father's. 
Eter  brow  was  narrow,  and  in  one  line  with  her  straight 
nose,  her  rosy  mouth  was  sweet  and  kind,  and  beyond 
everything  beautiful  were  the  lines  of  her  oval  face  and 
the  turn  of  her  snow-white  throat.  By  their  side  stood 
the  interpreter  who  translated  every  word  of  the  conversa- 
tion on  both  sides.  Behind  them  came  two  men  and  two 
women,  who  carried  gifts  for  Mena  and  his  wife. 

The  prince  praised  Mena's  magnanimity  in  the  warmest 
terms. 

4 '  You  have  proved  to  me,"  he  said,  "  that  the  virtues 
of  gratitude,  of  constancy,  and  of  faith  are  practiced  by 
the  Egyptians  ;  although  your  merit  certainly  appears  less 
to  me  now  that  I  see  your  wife,  for  he  who  owns  the  fair- 
est may  easily  forego  any  taste  for  the  fair." 


480 


UARDA. 


Nefert  blushed. 

' '  Your  generosity, "  she  answered,  ' '  does  me  more  than 
justice  at  your  daughter's  expense,  and  love  moved  my 
husband  to  the  same  injustice,  but  your  beautiful  daughter 
must  forgive  you  and  me  also." 

Praxilla  went  toward  her  and  expressed  her  thanks  ;  then 
she  offered  her  the  costly  coronet,  the  golden  clasps  and 
strings  of  rare  pearls  which  her  women  earned  ;  her  father 
beg-ged  Mena  to  accept  a  coat  of  mail  and  a  shield  of  fine 
silver  work.    The  strangers  were  then  led  into  the  tent, 
and  were  there  welcomed  and  entertained  with  all  honor, 
and  offered  bread  and  wine.    While  Mena  pledged  her 
father,  Praxilla  related  to  Nefert,  with  the  help  of  the 
interpreter,  what  hours  of  terror  she  had  lived  through 
after  she  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  the  Egyptians,  and 
was  brought  into  the  camp  with  the  other  spoils  of  war  ; 
how  an  older  commander  had  asserted  his  claimto  her, 
how  Mena  had  given  her  his  hand,  had  led  her  to  his  tent, 
and  had  treated  her  like  his  own  daughter.    Her  voice 
shook  with  emotion,  and  evenihe  interpreter  was  moved 
as  she  concluded  her  story  with  these  words  :  "  How  grate- 
ful I  am  to  him  you  will  fully  understand  when  I  tell  you 
that  the  man  who  was  to  have  been  my  husband  tell 
wounded  before  my  eyes  while  defending  our  camp  ;  but 
he  has  recovered,  and  now  only  awaits  my  return  for  our 

W6-Mav  the  gods  only  grant  it!"  cried  the  king  "for 
Praxilla  is  the  last  child  of  my  house.  The  murderous 
war  robbed  me  of  my  four  fair  sons  before  they  had  taken 
wives,  my  son  in-law  was  slain  by  the  Egyptians  at  the 
taking  of  our  camp,  and  his  wife  and  new-born  son  fell 
into  their  hands,  and  Praxilla  is  my  youngest  child,  the 
only  one  left  to  me  by  the  envious  gods. 

While  he  was  still  speaking  they  heard  the  guards  call 
out  and  a  child's  loud  cry,  and  at  the  same  instant .little 
Scherau  rushed  into  the  tent  holding  up  his  hand, 
exclaiming  : 

"  I  have  it  !    I  have  found  it  ! 

Uarda  who  had  remained  behind  the  curtain  which 
screened  the  sleeping-room  of  the  tent-but  who ,  had  list- 
ened with  breathless  attention  to  every  word  of  the  for- 
eigners and  who  had  never  taken  her  eyes  off  the  tair 


UARDA* 


Praxilla— now  came  forward,  emboldened  by  her  agitation, 
into  the  midst  of  the  tent,  and  took  the  jewel  from  the 
child's  hand  to  show  it  to  the  Greek  king  ;  for  while  she 
stood  gazing  at  Praxilla  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  look- 
ing at  herself  in  a  mirror,  and  the  idea  had  rapidly  grown 
to  conviction  that  her  mother  had  been  a  daughter  of  the 
Danaids.  Her  heart  beat  violently  as  she  went  up  to  the 
king  with  a  modest  demeanor,  her  head  bent  down,  but 
holding  her  jeAvel  up  for  him  to  see. 

The  by-standers  all  gazed  in  astonishment  at  the  veteran 
chief,  for  he  staggered  as  she  came  up  to  him,  stretched 
out  his  hands  as  if  in  terror  toward  the  girl,  and  drew 
back,  crying  out  : 

"Xanthe,  Xanthe  !  Is  your  spirit  freed  from  Hades  ? 
Are  you  come  to  summon  me  ? 

Praxilla  looked  at  her  father  in  alarm,  but  suddenly  she5 
too,  gave  a  piercing  cry,  snatched  a  chain  from  her  neck, 
hurried  toward  Uarda,  and  seizing  the  jewel  she  held, 
exclaimed  : 

' (  Here  is  the  ether  half  of  the  ornament ;  it  belonged  to 
my  poor  sister  Xanthe  !  " 

The  old  Greek  was  a  pathetic  sight ;  he  struggled  hard, 
to  collect  himself,  looking  with  tender  delight  at  Uarda, 
his  sinewy  hands  trembling  as  he  compared  the  two  pieces 
of  the  necklet ;  they  matched  precisely — each  represented 
the  wing  of  an  eagle  which  was  attached  to  half  an  oval 
covered  with  an  inscription  ;  when  they  were  laid  together 
they  formed  the  complete  figure  of  a  bird  with  outspread 
wings  on  whose  breast  the  lines  exactly  matched  the  fol- 
lowing oracular  verse  : 

"  Alone  each  is  a  trifling  thing,  a  woman's  useless  toy — 
But  with  its  counterpart  behold  !  the  favorite  bird  of  Zeus." 

A  glance  at  the  inscription  convinced  the  king  that  he 
held  in  his  hand  the  very  jewel  which  he  had  put  with  his 
own  hands  round  the  neck  of  his  daughter  Xanthe  on  her 
marriage-day,  and  of  wmich  the  other  half  had  been  pre- 
served by  her  mother,  from  whom  it  had  descended  to 
Praxilla.  It  had  originally  been  made  for  his  wife  and  her 
twin  sister  who  had  died  young.  Before  he  made  any 
inquiries,  or  asked  for  any  explanations,  he  took  Uarda's 
head  between  his  hands,  and  turning  her  face  close  to  his, 

31 


482 


UARDA. 


he  gazed  at  her  features,  as  if  he  were  reading  a  book  in 
which  he  expected  to  find  a  memorial  of  all  the  blissful 
hours  of  his  youth,  and  the  girl  felt  no  fear ;  nor  did  she 
shrink  when  he  pressed  his  lips  to  her  forehead,  for  she 
felt  that  this  man's  blood  ran  in  her  own  veins.  At  last 
the  king  signed  to  the  interpreter  ;  Uarda  was  asked  to  tell 
all  that  she  knew  of  her  mother,  and  when  she  said  that 
she  had  come  a  captive  to  Thebes  with  an  infant  that  had 
soon  after  died,  that  her  father  had  bought  her  and  had 
loved  her  in  spite  of  her  being  dumb,  the  prince's  con- 
viction became  certainty  ;  he  acknowledged  Uarda  as  his 
grandchild,  and  Praxilla  clasped  her  in  her  arms. 

Then  he  told  Mena  that  it  was  now  twenty  years  since 
his  son-in-law  had  been  killed,  and  his  daughter  Xanthe, 
whom  Uarda  exactly  resembled,  had  been  carried  into 
captivity.  Praxilla  was  then  only  just  born,  and  his  wife 
died  of  the  shock  of  such  terrible  news.  All  his  inquiries 
for  Xanthe  and  her  child  had  been  fruitless,  but  he  now 
remembered  that  once,  when  he  had  offered  a  large  ransom 
for  his  daughter  if  she  could  be  found,  the  Egyptians  had 
inquired  whether  she  were  dumb,  and  that  he  had  an- 
swered "No."  No  doubt  Xanthe  had  lost  the  power  of 
speech  through  grief,  terror  and  suffering. 

The  joy  of  the  king  was  unspeakable,  and  Uarda  was 
never  tired  of  gazing  at  his  daughter  and  holding  her 
hand. 

Then  she  turned  to  the  interpreter. 

"Tell  me,"  she  said;  "  how  do  I  say  <I  am  so  very 
happy '  ?  " 

He  told  her,  and  she  smilingly  repeated  his  words. 
"  Now  '  Uarda  will  love  you  with  all  her  heart '  ?  "  and  she 
said  it  after  him  in  broken  accents  that  sounded  so  sweet 
and  so  heartfelt  that  the  old  man  clasped  her  to  his 
breast. 

Tears  of  emotion  stood  in  Nefert  s  eyes,  and  when 
Uarda  flung  herself  into  her  arms  she  said  : 

"The  forlorn  swan  has  found  its  kindred,  the  floating 
leaf  has  reached  the  shore,  and  must  be  happy  now  !  "  - 

Thus  passed  *an  hour  of  the  purest  happiness  :  at  last 
the  Greek  king  prepared  to  leave,  and  he  wished  to  take 
Uarda  with  him  ;  but  Mena  begged  his  permission  to  com- 
municate all  that  had  occurred  to  the  Pharaoh  and  Pent- 


UARDA. 


4&3 


Anat,  for  Uarda  was  attached  to  the  princess'  train,  and 
had  been  left  in  his  charge,  and  he  dared  not  trust  her  in 
any  other  hands  without  Bent-Anat  s  permission.  Without 
waiting  for  the  king's  reply  he  left  the  tent,  hastened  to 
the  banqueting-tent,  and,  as  we  know,  Rameses  and  the 
princess  had  at  once  attended  to  his  summons. 

On  the  way  Mena  gave  them  a  vivid  description  of  the 
exciting  events  that  had  taken  place,  and  Rameses,  with  a 
side  glance  at  Bent-Anat,  asked  Rameri  : 

"  Would  you  be  prepared  to  repair  your  errors,  and  tc 
win  the  friendship  of  the  Greek  king  by  being  betrothed  tc 
his  daughter  ?  " 

The  prince  could  not  answer  a  word,  but  he  clasped  his 
fathers  hand,  and , kissed  it  so  warmly  that  Rameses,  as 
he  drew  it  away,  said  : 

"  I  really  believe  that  you  have  stolen  a  march  on  me, 
and  have  been  studying  diplomacy  behind  my  back  !  " 

Rameses  met  his  noble  opponent  outside  Mena's  tent, 
and  was  about  to  offer  him  his  hand,  but  the  Danaid  chief 
had  sunk  on  his  knees  before  him  as  the  other  princes  had 
done. 

"  Regard  me  not  as  a  king  and  a  warrior,"  he  exclaimed, 
/'only  as  a  suppliant  father;  let  us  conclude  a  peace,  and 
permit  me  to  take  this  maiden,  my  grandchild,  home  with 
me  to  my  own  country." 

Rameses  raised  the  old  man  from  the  ground,  gave  him 
his  hand,  and  said  kindly  : 

"  I  can  only  grant  the  half  of  what  you  ask.  I,  as  king 
of  Egypt,  am  most  willing  to  grant  you  a  faithful  compact 
for  a  sound  and  lasting  peace  ;  as  regards  this  maiden,  you 
must  treat  with  my  children,  first  with  my  daughter 
Bent-Anat,  one  of  whose  ladies  she  is,  and  then  with  youi 
released  prisoner  there,  who  wishes  to  make  Uarda  his 
wife.'7 

"I  will  resign  my  share  in  the  matter  to  my  brother," 
said  Bent-Anat,  "and  I  only  ask  you,  maiden,  whether 
you  are  inclined  to  acknowledge  him  as  your  lord  and 
master?" 

Uarda  bowed  assent,  and  looked  at  her  grandfathei 
with  an  expression  which  he  understood  without  any 
interpreter. 

"I  know  you  well,"  he  said,  turning  to  Rameri.  "We 


484 


UARDA. 


stood  face  to  face  in  the  fight,  and  I  took  you  prisoner  as 
you  fell  stunned  by  a  blow  from  my  sword.  You  are  still 
too  rash,  but  that  is  a  fault  which  time  will  amend  in  a 
youth  of  your  heroic  temper.  Listen  to  me  now,  and  you 
too,  noble  Pharaoh,  permit  me  these  few  words ;  let  us 
betroth  these  two,  and  may  their  union  be  the  bond  of 
ours,  but  first  grant  me  for  a  year  to  take  my  long-lost 
child  home  with  me  that  she  may  rejoice  my  old  heart, 
and  that  I  may  hear  from  her  lips  the  accents  of  her 
mother  whom  you  took  from  me.  They  are  both  young  ; 
according  to  the  usages  of  our  country,  where  both  men 
and  women  ripen  later  than  in  your  country,  they  are 
almost  too  young  for  the  solemn  tie  of  marriage.  But  one 
thing  above  all  will  determine  you  to  favor  my  wishes  :  this 
daughter  of  a  royal  house  has  grown  up  amid  th?  humblest 
surroundings  ;  here  she  has  no  home,  no  family  ties.  The 
prince  has  wooed  her,  so  to  speak,  on  the  highway,  but  it 
she  now  comes  with  me  he  can  enter  the  palace  of  kings  as 
suitor  to  a  princess,  and  the  marriage  feast  I  will  provide 
shall  be  a  right  royal  one.  " 

' 6  What  you  demand  is  just  and  wise, "  replied  Rameses. 
"Take  your  grandchild  with  you  as  my  son's  betrothed 
bride—my  future  daughter.  Give  me  your  hands,  my 
children.  The  delay  will  teach  you  patience,  for  Rameri 
must  remain  a  full  year  from  to-day  in  Egypt,  and  it  will 
be  to  your  profit,  sweet  child,  for  the  obedience  which  he 
will  learn  through  his  training  in  the  army  will  temper  the 
nature  of  your  future  husband.  You,  Rameri,  shall  in  a 
year  from  to-day — and  I  think  you  will  not  forget  the 
date — find  at  your  service  a  ship  in  the  harbor  of  Pelusium 
fitted  and  manned  with  Phoenicians  to  convey  you  to  your 
wedding." 

"So  be  it ! 91  exclaimed  the  old  man.  "  And  by  Zeus, 
who  hears  me  swear — I  will  not  withhold  Xanthe  s  daugh- 
ter from  your  son  when  he  comes  to  claim  her !  " 

When  Rameri  returned  to  the  princes'  tent  he  threw 
himself  on  their  necks  in  turn,  and  when  he  found  himself 
alone  with  their  surly  old  house-steward,  he  snatched  his 
wig  from  his  head,  flung  it  in  the  air,  and  Uien  coaxingly 
stroked  the  worthy  officers  cheeks  as  he  set  it  on  his  head 
again. 


UARDA. 


485 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Uarda  accompanied  her  grandfather  and  Praxilla  to 
their  tent  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Nile,  but  she  was  to 
return  next  morning  to  the  Egyptian  camp  to  take  leave 
of  all  her  friends,  and  to  provide  for  her  father's-  inter- 
ment. Nor  did  she  delay  attending  to  the  last  wishes  of 
old  Hekt,  and  Bent-Anat  easily  persuaded  her  father, 
when  he  learned  how  greatly  he  had  been  indebted  to  her, 
to  have  her  embalmed  like  a  lady  of  rank. 

Before  Uarda  left  the  Egyptian  camp,  Pentaur  came  to 
entreat  her  to  afford  her  dying  preserver  Nebsecht  the  last 
happiness  of  seeing  her  once  more  ;  Uarda  acceded  with  a 
blush,  and  the  poet,  who  had  watched  all  night  by  his 
friend,  went  forward  to  prepare  him  for  her  visit.  - 

Nebsecht's  burns  and  a  severe  wound  on  his  head 
caused  him  great  suffering  ;  his  cheeks  glowed  with  fever, 
and  the  physicians  told  Pentaur  that  he  probably  could 
not  live  more  than  a  few  hours. 

The  poet  laid  his  cool  hand  on  his  friend's  brow,  and 
spoke  to  him  encouragingly  ;  but  Nebsecht  smiled  at  his 
words  with  the  peculiar  expression  of  a  man  who  knows 
that  his  end  is  near,  and  said  in  a  low  voice  and  with  a 
visible  effort  : 

"A  few  breaths  more  and  here,  and  here,  will  be 
peace.'     Pie  laid  his  hand  on  his  head  and  on  his  heart. 

"We  all  attain  to  peace/'  said  Pentaur.  "But  perhaps 
only  to  labor  more  earnestly  and  uriweariedly  in  the  land 
beyond  the  grave.  If  the  gods  reward  anything  it  is  the 
honest  struggle,  the  earnest  seeking  after  truth  ;  if  any 
spirit  can  be.  made  one  with  the  great  Soul,  of  the  world  it 
will  be  yours,  and  if  any  eye  may  see  the  Godhead 
through  the  veil  which  here  shrouds  the  mystery  of  His 
existence  yours  will  have  earned  the  privilege." 

"  I  have  pushed  and  pulled/'  sighed  Nebsecht,  "  with 
all  my  might,  and  now  when  I  thought  I  had  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  truth  the  heavy  fist  of  death  comes  down 
upon  me  and  shuts  my  eyes.    What  good  wilJ  it  do  me  to 


486 


UARDA. 


see  with  the  eye  of  the  Divinity  or  to  share  in  his  omnis* 
cience?  It  is  not  seeing,  it  is  seeking  that  is  delightful — ■ 
so  delightful  that  I  would  willingly  set  mv  life  there 
against  another  life  here  for  the  sake  of  it." 

He  was  silent,  for  his  strength  failed,  and  Pentaur 
begged  him  to  keep  quiet,  and  to  occupy  his  mind  in  re- 
calling all  the  hours  of  joy  which  life  had  given  him. 

"  They  have  been  few,"  said  the  leech.  "When  my 
mother  kissed  me  and  gave  me  dates,  when  I  could  work 
and  observe  in  peace,  when  you  opened  my  eyes  to  the 
beautiful  world  of  poetry — that  was  good  !  " 

"  And  you  have  soothed  the  sufferings  of  many  men/' 
added  Pentaur,  "and  never  caused  pain  to  any  one." 

Nebsecht  shook  his  head. 

"I  drove  the  old  paraschites, "  he  muttered,  "to  mad- 
ness and  to  death. " 

He  was  silent  for  a  long  time,  then  he  looked  up  eagerly 
and  said  :  "  But  not  intentionally — and  not  in  vain  !  In 
Syria,  at  Megiddo  I  could  work  undisturbed;  now  I  know 
what  the  organ  is  that  thinks.  The  heart  !  What  is  the 
heart?  A  ram's  heart  or  a  man's  heart,  they  serve  th? 
same  end  ;  they  turn  the  wheel  of  animal  life,  they  both 
beat  quicker  in  terror  or  in  joy,  for  we  feel  fear  or  pleasure 
just  as  animals  do.  But  Thought,  the  divine  power  that 
flies  to  the  infinite,  and  enables  us  to  form  and  prove  our 
opinions,  has  its  seat  here — here  in  the  brain,  behind  the 
brow." 

He  paused  exhausted  and  overcome  with  pain.  Pen- 
taur thought  he  was  wandering  in  his  fever,  and  offered 
him  a  cooling  drink  while  two  physicians  walked  round 
his  bed  singing  litanies  ;  then,  as  Nebsecht  raised  himself 
in  bed  with  renewed  energy,  the  poet  said  to  him  : 

"  The  fairest  memory  of  your  life  must  surely  be  that  of 
the  sweet  child  whose  face,  as  you  once  confessed  to  me, 
first  opened  your  soul  to  the  sense  of  beauty,  and  whom 
with  your  own  hands  you  snatched  from  death  at  the  cost 
of  your  own  life.  You  know  Uarda  has  found  her^own 
relatives  and  is  happy,  and  she  is  very  grateful  to  her  pre- 
server, and  would  like  to  see  him  once  more  before  she 
goes  far  away  with  her  grandfather/' 

The  sick  man  hesitated  before  he  answered,  softly  ; 

"  Let  her  come — but  I  will  look  at  her  from  a  distance/ 


UARDA. 


487 


Pentaur  went  out  and  soon  returned  with  Uarda,  who 
remained  standing  with  glowing  cheeks  and  tears  in  her 
eyes  at  the  door  of  the  tent.  The  leech  looked  at  her  a 
long  time  with  an  imploring  and  tender  expression,  then 
he  said  : 

"  Accept  my  thanks— and  be  happy." 

The  girl  would  have  gone  up  to  him  to  take  his  hand, 
but  he  waved  her  off  with  his  right  hand,  enveloped  m 
wrappings. 

"  Come  no  nearer,"  he  said,  "  but  stay  a  moment  longer. 
You  have  tears  in  your  eyes ;  are  they  for  me  or  only  for 
my  pain  ? " 

u  For  you,  good  noble  man  !  my  friend  and  my  pre- 
server !  "  said  Uarda.       For  you,  dear  poor  Nebsecht  !  " 

The  leech  closed  his  eyes  as  she  spoke  these  words  with 
earnest  feeling,  but  he  looked  up  once  more  as  she  ceased 
speaking,  and  gazed  at  her  with  tender  admiration  ;  then 
he  said  softly  : 

"  It  is  enough — now  I  can  die." 

Uarda  left  the  tent,  Pentaur  remained  with  him  listening 
to  his  hoarse  and  difficult  breathing  ;  suddenly  Nebsecht 
raised  himself,  and  said  :  ''Farewell,  my  friend — my  jour- 
ney is  beginning,  who  knows  whither  ?  " 

"Only  not  into  vacancy,  not  to  end  in  nothingness  !  " 
cried  Pentaur,  warmly. 

The  leech  shook  his  head.  "  I  have  been  something," 
he  said,  "  and  being  something  I  cannot  become  nothing. 
Nature  is  a  good  economist,  and  utilizes  the  smallest  trifle  ; 
she  will  use  me  too  according  to  her  need.  She  brings 
everything  to  its  end  and  purpose  in  obedience  to  some 
rule  and  measure,  and  will  so  deal  with  me  after  I  am 
dead  ;  there  is  no  waste.  Each  thing  results  in  being  that 
which  it  is  its  function  to  become  ;  our  wish  or  will  is  not 
asked — my  head  !  when  the  pain  is  in  my  head  I  cannot 
think— if  only  I  could  prove-r-could  prove  " 

The  last  words  were  less  and  less  audible,  his  breath  was 
choked,  and  in  a  few  seconds  Pentaur  with  deep  regret 
closed  his  eyes. 

Pentaur  as  he  quitted  the  tent  where  the  dead  man  lay, 
met  the  high-priest  Ameni,  who  had  gone  to  seek  him  by 
his  friend's  bedside,  and  they  returned  together  to  gaze 


488 


UARDA. 


on  the  dead.  Ameni,  with  much  emotion,  put  up  a  few 
earnest  prayers  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul,  and  then  re- 
quested Pentaur  to  follow  him  without  delay  to  his  tent. 
On  the  way  he  prepared  the  poet,  with  the  polite  delicacy 
which  was  peculiar  to  him,  for  a  meeting  which  might  be 
more  painful  than  joyful  to  him,  and  must  in  any  case 
bring  him  many  hours  of  anxiety  and  agitation. 

The  judges  in  Thebes,  who  had  been  become  compelled 
to  sentence  the  lady  Setchem,  as  the  mother  of  a  traitor, 
to  banishment  to  the  mines*  had,  without  any  demand  on 
her  part,  granted  leave  to  the  noble  and  most  respectable 
matron  to  go  under  an  escort  of  guards  to  meet  the  king 
on  his  return  into  Egypt,  in  order  to  petition  for  mercy  for 
herself,  but  not— as  it  was  expressly  -  added — for  Paaker; 
and  she  had  set  out,  but  with  the  secret  resolution  to 
obtain  the  king's  grace  not  for  herself  but  for  her  son. 

Ameni  had  already  left  Thebes  for  the  north  when "  this 
sentence  was  pronounced,  or  he  would  have  reversed  it  by 
declaring  the  true  origin  of  Paaker  ;  for  after  he  had  given 
up  his  participation  in  the  regent  s  conspiracy,  he  no  longer 
had  any  motive  for  keeping  old  Hekt's  secret. 

Setchem V  journey  was  lengthened  by  a  storm  which 
wrecked  the  ship  in  which  she  was  descending  the  Nile, 
and  she  did  not  reach  Pelusium  till  after  the  king.  The 
canal  which  formed  the  mouth  of  the  Nile  close  to  this 
fortress  and  joined  the  river  to  the  Mediterranean,  was  so 
overcrowded  with  the  boats  of  the  regent  and  his  follow- 
ers, of  the  ambassadors,  nobles,  citizens  and  troops  which 
had  met  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  that  the  lady's  boat 
could  find  anchorage  only  at  a  great  distance  from  the 
city,  and  accompanied  by  her  faithful  steward  she  had 
succeeded  only  a  few  hours  before  in  speaking  to  the  high- 
priest. 

Setchem  was  terribly  changed  ;  her  eyes,  which  only  a 
few  months  since  had  kept  -  an  efficient  watch  over  the 
wealthy  Theban  household,  were  now  dim  and  weary,  and 

*  Agatharchides,  in  Piodorus  iii.,  12,  says  that  in  many  cases  not  only 
the  criminal  but  his  relations  also  were  condemned  to  labor  in  the  mines. 
In  tin:  convention  signed  between  Rameses  and  the  Chela  king  it  is  ex- 
pressly prptided  that  the  deserter  restored  to  Egypt  shall  go  unpunished, 
that  no  injury  shall  be  done  "  to  his  house,  his  wife  orchis  children,  nor 
shall  his  mother  be  put  to  death." 


UARDA. 


489 


although  her  figure  had  not  grown  thin  it  had  lost  its 
dignity  and  energy,  and  seemed  inert  and  feeble.  Her 
lips,  so  ready  for  a  wise  or  sprightly  saying,  were  closely 
shut,  and  moved  only  in  silent  prayer  or  when  some  friend 
spoke  to  her  of  her  unhappy  son.  His  deed  she  well  knew 
was  that  of  a  reprobate,  and-  she  sought  no  excuse  or 
defense  ;  her  mother's  heart  forgave  it  without  any. 
Whenever  she  thought  of  him— and  she  thought  of  him 
incessantly  all  through  the  day  and  through  her  sleepless 
nights— her  eyes  overflowed  with  tears. 

Her  boat  had  reached  Pelusium  just  as  the  flames  were 
breaking  out  in  the  palace  ;  the  broad  flare  of  light  and  the 
cries  from  the  various  vessels  in  the  harbor  brought  her  on 
deck.  She  heard  that  the  burning  house  was  the  pavilion 
erected  by  Ani  for  the  king's  residence  ;  Rameses  she  was 
told  was  in  the  utmost  clanger,  and  the  fire  had  beyond  a 
doubt  been  laid  by  traitors. 

As  day  broke  and  further  news  reached  her,  the  names 
of  her  son  and  of  her  sister  came  to  her  ear  ;  she  asked  no 
questions — she  w^ould  not  hear  the  truth — but  she  knew  it 
all  the  same;  as  often  as  the  word  "  traitor"  caught  her 
ear  in  her  cabin,  to  which  she  had  retreated,  she  felt  as  if 
some  keen  pain  shot  through  her  bewildered  brain,  and 
shuddered  as  if  from  a  cold  chill. 

All  through  that  day  she  could  neither  eat  nor  drink, 
but  lay  with  closed  eyes  on  her  couch,  while  her  steward 
■ — who  had  soon  learned  what  a  terrible  share  his  former 
master  had  taken  in  the  incendiarism,  and  who  now  gave 
up  his-  lady's  cause  for  lost — sought  everywhere  for  the 
high-priest  Ameni  ;  but  as  he  was  among  the  persons 
nearest  to  the  king  it  was  impossible  to  see  him  that  day, 
and  it  was  not  till  the  next  morning  that  he  was  able  to 
speak  with  him.  Ameni  inspired  the  anxious  and  sorrow- 
ful old  retainer  with  fresh  courage,  returned  with  him  in 
his  own  chariot  to  the  harbor,  and  accompanied  him  to 
SetchenVs  boat  to  prepare  her  for  the  happiness  which 
awaited  her  after  her  terrible  troubles. 

But  he  came  too  late  ;  the  spirit  of  the  poor  lady  was 
quite  clouded,  and  she  listened  to  him  without  any  interest 
while  he  strove  to  restore  her  to  courage  and  to  recall  her 
wandering  mind.    She  only  interrupted  him  over  and  over 


49° 


UARDA. 


again  with  the  questions:  "Did  he  do  it?"  or  "Is  he 

alive  ? " 

At  last  Ameni  succeeded  in  persuading  her  to  accompany 
him  in  her  litter  to  his  tent,  where  she  would  find  her  son. 
Pentaur  was  wonderfully  like  her  lost  husband,  and  the 
priest,  experienced  in  humanity,  thought  that  the  sight  of 
him  would  rouse  the  dormant  powers  of  her  mind.  When 
she  had  arrived  at  his  tent,  he  told  her  with  kind  precau- 
tion the  whole  history  of  the  exchange  of  Paaker  for  Pen- 
taur, and  she  followed  the  story  with  attention  but  with 
indifference,  as  if  she  were  hearing  of  the  adventures  of. 
others  who  did  not  concern  her.  When  Ameni  enlarged 
on  the  genius  of  the  poet  and  on  his  perfect  resemblance 
to  his  dead  father  she  muttered  : 

"  I  know — I  know.  You  mean  the  speaker  at  the  feast 
of  the  Valley,"  and  then,  although  she  had  been  told 
several  times  that  Paaker  had  been  killed,  she  asked  again 
if  her  son  was  alive. 

Ameni  decided  at  last  to  fetch  Pentaur  himself.  When 
he  came  back  with  him,  fully  prepared  to  meet  his  heavily- 
stricken  mother,  the  tent  was  empty.  The  high-priest's 
servants  told  him  that  Set chem  had  persuaded  the  easily- 
moved  old  prophet  Gagabu  to  conduct  her  to  the  place 
where  the  body  of  Paaker  lay.  Ameni  was  very  much 
vexed,  for  he  feared  that  Setchem  was  now  lost  indeed, 
and  he  desired  the  poet  to  follow  him  at  once. 

The  mortal  remains  of  the  pioneer  had  been  laid  in  a 
tent  not  far  from  the  scene  of  the  fire  ;  his  body  was  cov- 
ered with  a  cloth,  but  his  pale  face,  which  had  not  been 
injured  in  his  fall,  remained  uncovered  ;  by  his  side  knelt 
the  unhappy  mother. 

She  paid  no  heed  to  Ameni  when  he  spoke  to  her,  and 
he  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder  and  said  as  he  pointed  to 
the  body  : 

"This  was  the  son  of  a  gardener.  You  brought  him 
up  faithfully  as  if  he  were  your  own  ;  but  your  noble  hus- 
band's true  hei^,  the  son  you  bore  him,  is  Pentaur,  to 
whom  the  gods  have  given  not  only  the  form  and  features 
but  the  noble  qualities  of  his  father.  The  dead  man  may 
l)e  forgiven — for  the  sake  of  your  virtues  ;  but  your  love  is 
due  to  this  nobler  soul— the  real  son  of  your  husband,  the 
poet  of  Egypt,  the  preserver  of  the  kings  life." 


UARDA. 


491 


Setchem  rose  and  went  up  to  Pentaur  ;  she  laid  her 
hands  on  his  breast  as  if  to  feel  if  he  were  indeed  a  living 
man,  and  looked  into  his  face. 

4  e  It  is  he, "  she  said. .    ' '  May  the  immortals  bless  him  !  " 

Pentaur  would  have  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  but  she 
pushed  him  away  as  if  she  feared  to  commit  some  breach 
of  faith,  and  turning  hastily  to  the  bier  she  said  softly  : 

"  Poor  Paaker — poor,  poor  Paaker  !  " 

"Mother,  mother,  do  you  not  know  your  son?"  cried 
Pentaur,  deeply  moved. 

She  turned  to  him  again  :  "It  is  his  voice/'  she  said. 
"It  is  he." 

She  went  up  to  Pentaur,  clung  to  him,  clasped  her  arms 
round  his  neck  as  he  bent  over  her,  then  kissing  him 
fondly, 

"The  gods  will  bless  you  !  "  she  said  once  more. 

She  tore  herself  from  him  and  threw  herself  down  by 
the  body  of  Paaker,  as  if  she  had  done  him  some  injustice 
and  robbed  him  of  his  rights. 

Thus  she  remained,  speechless  and  motionless,  till  they 
carried  her  back  to  her  boat ;  there  she  lay  down,  and 
refused  to  take  any  nourishment  ;  from  time  to  time  she 
whispered  "Poor  Paaker!  "  She  no  longer  repelled  Pen- 
taur, for  she  did  not  again  recognize  him,  and  before  he 
left  her  she  had  followed  the  rough-natured  son  of  her 
adoption  to  the  other  world 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

The  king  had  left  the  camp,  and  had  settled  in  the 
neighboring  "city  of  Rameses  "  Tanis,  with  the  greater 
part  of  his  army.  The  Hebrews,  who  were  settled  in  im- 
mense numbers  in  the  province  of  Goshen,  and  whom 
Ani  had  attached  to  his  cause  by  remitting  their  task- 
work, were  now  driven  to  labor  at  the  palaces  and  fortifi- 
cations which  Rameses  had  begun  to  build. 

At  Tanis,  too,  the  treaty  of  peace  was  signed  and  was 
presented  to  Rameses  inscribed  on  a  silver  tablet  by 


493  UARDA. 

Tarthisebu,  the  representative  of  the  Cheta  king,  m  the 
name  of  his  lord  and  master.* 

Pentaur  followed  the  king  as  soon  as  he  had  closed  his 
mothers  eyes,  and  accompanied  her  body  to  Heliopolis, 
there  to  have  it  embalmed  ;  from  thence  the  mummy  was 
to  be  sent  to  Thebes,  and  solemnly  placed  in  the  grave  of 
her  ancestors.  This  duty  of  children  toward  their  parents, 
and  indeed  all  care  for  the  dead,  was  regarded  as  so  sacred 
by  the  Egyptians  that  neither  Pentaur  nor  Bent-Anat 
would  have  thought  of  being  united  before  it  was  accom- 
plished. 

On  the  twenty-first  day  of  the  month  Tybi,  of  the 
twenty-first  year  of  the  reign  of  Rameses,f  the  day  on 
which  the  peace  was  signed,  the  poet  returned  to  Tanis, 
sad  at  heart,  for  the  old  gardener  whom  he  had  regarded 
and  loved  as  his  father  had  died  before  his  return  home; 
the  good  old  man  had  hot  long  survived  the  false  intelli- 
gence of  the  death  of  the  poet,  whom  he  had  not  only 
loved  but  reverenced  as  a  superior  being  bestowed  upon 
his  house  as  a  special  grace  from  the  gods. 

It  was  not  till  seven  months  after  the  fire  at  Pelusium 
that  Pentaur  s  marriage  with  Bent-Anat  was  solemnized  in 
the  palace  of  the  Pharaohs  at  Thebes  ;  but  time  and  the 
sorrows  he  had  suffered  had  only  united  their  hearts  more 
closely.  She  felt  that  though  he  was  the  stronger  she  was 
the  giver  and  the  helper,  and  realized  with  delight  that 
like  the  sun,  which  when  it  rises  invites  a  thousand 
flowers  to  open  and  unfold,  the  glow  of  her  presence 
raised  the  poet's  oppressed  soul  to  fresh  life  and  beauty. 
They  had  given  each  other  up  for  lost  through  strife  and 
suffering,  and  now  had  found  each  ot\ier  again  ;  each 
knew  how  precious  the  other  was.  To  make  each  oilier 
happy,  and  prove  their  affection,  was  now  the  aim  of  their 
lives,  and  as  they  each  had  proved  that  they  prized 
honor  and  right-doing  above  happiness  their  union  was  a 

*This  remarkable  document  is  preserved  on  the  huge  fragment  which 
remains  of  the  south  wall  of  the  temple  of  Karnak.  The  silver  tablet  on 
which  it  was  engraved  is  mentioned  and  described  in  the  fourth  line  01 
the  treaty.  It  was  rectangular,  and  had  a  loop  at  the  top  to  hang  -it 
up  by.    The  best  translation  is  by  Chabas  in  "  Voyage  d'un  Egyptien. 

t  According  to  the  date  of  the  treaty  of  peace  this  is  the  twenty-ninth 
of  January. 


U.AHDA. 


493 


true  marriage,  ennobling  and  purifying  their  souls.  She 
could  share  his  deepest  thoughts  and  his  most  difficult 
undertakings,  and  if  their  house  were  filled  with  children 
she  would  know  how  to  give  him  the  fullest  enjoyment  of 
those  small  blessings  which  at  the  same  time  are  the 
greatest  joys  of  life.  '  ] ...  ' 

Pentaur  finding  himself  endowed  by  the  king  with  super- 
abundant wealth,  gave  up  the  inheritance  of  his  fathers 
to  his  brother  Horus,  who  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  chief 
pioneer  as  a  reward  for  his  interposition  at  the  battle  of 
Kadesh  •  Horus  replaced  the  fallen  cedar-trees  which  had 
stood  at' the  door  of  his  house  by  masts  of  more  moderate 
dimensions. 

The  hapless  Huni,  under  whose  name  Pentaur  had  been 
transferred  to  the  mines  of  Sinai,  was  released  from  the 
quarries  of  Ghennu,  and  restored  to  his  children  enriched 
by  gifts  from  the  poet. 

The  Pharaoh  fully  recognized  the  splendid  talents  of  his 
daughter  s  husband ;  she  to  his  latest  days  remained  his 
favorite  child,  even  after  he  had  consolidated  the  peace  by 
marrying  the  daughter  of  the  Cheta  king,  and  Pentaur 
became  his  most  trusted  adviser,  and  responsible  for  the 
weightiest  affairs  in  the  state.  t  ^ 

Rameses  learned  from  the  papers  found  in  Am  s  tent, 
and  from  other  evidence  which  was  only  too  abundant, 
that  the  superior  of  the  House  of  Seti,  and  with  him  the 
greater  part  of  the  priesthood,  had  for  a  long  time  been 
making  common  cause  with  the  traitor;  in  the  first  in- 
stance he  determined  on  the  severest,  nay  bloodiest  pun- 
ishment, but  he  was  persuaded  by  Pentaur  and  by  his  son 
Chamus  to  assert  and  support  the  principles  of  his  govern- 
ment by  milder  and  yet  thorough  measures.  Rameses  de- 
sired to  be  a  defender  of  religion— of  the  religion  which 
could  carry  consolation  into  the  life  of  the  lowly  and  over- 
burdened, and  give  their  existence  a  higher  and  fuller 
meaning— the  religion  which  to  him,  as  king,  appeared  the 
indispensable  means  of  keeping  the  grand  significance  of 
human  life  ever  present  to  his  mind— sacred  as  the  inher- 
itance of  his  fathers  and  useful  as  the  school  where  the 
people,  who  needed  leading,  might  learn  to  follow  and  obey. 

But  nevertheless  no  one,  not  even  the  priests,  the  guard- 
ians of  souls,  could  be  permitted  to  resist  the  laws 


494 


UARDA. 


of  which  he  was  the  bulwark,  to  which  he  himself  was 

subject,  and  which  enjoined  obedience  to  his  authority  : 
and  before  he  left  Tanis  he  had  given  Ameni  and  his  fol- 
lowers to  understand  that  he  alone  was  master  in  Egypt. 

The  god  Seth,  who  had  been  honored  by  the  Semite 
races  since  the  time  of  the  Hyksos,  and  whom  they  called 
upon  under  the  name  of  Baal,  had  from  the  earliest  times 
never  been  allowed  a  temple  on  the  Nile,  as  being  the  god 
of  the  stranger  ;  but  Rameses— in  spite  of  the  bold  remon- 
strances of  the  priestly  party  who  called  themselves  the 
"  true  believers  "—raised  a  magnificent  temple  to  this  god 
in  the  city  of  Tanis  *  to  supply  the  religious  needs  of  the 
immigrant  foreigners.  In  the  same  spirit  of  toleration  he 
would  not  allow  the  worship  of  strange  gods  to  be  inter- 
fered wTith,  though  on  the  other  hand  he  was  jealous  in 
honoring  the  Egyptian  gods  with  unexampled  liberality. 
He  caused  temples  to  be  erected  in  most  of  the  great  cities 
of  the  kingdom,  he  added  to  the  temple  of  Ptah  at  Mem- 
phis, and  erected  immense  colossi  in  front  of  the  pylons  in 
memory  of  his  deliverance  from  the  fire.  In  the  Necropo- 
lis of  Thebes  he  had  a  splendid  edifice  constructed— which 
to  this  day  delights  the  beholder  by  the  symmetry  of  its 
proportions  f— in  memory  of  the  hour  when  he  escaped 
death  as  by  a  miracle  ;  on  its  pylon  he  caused  the  battle  of 
Kadesh  to  be  represented  in  beautiful  pictures  in  relief, 
and  there,  as  well  as  on  the  architrave  of  the  great  ban- 
queting-hall,  he  had  the  history  inscribed  of  the  danger  he 
had  run  when  he  stood  "  alone  and  no  man  with  him  ! 

By  his  order  Pentaur  rewrote  the  song  he  had  sung  at 
Pelusium;  it  is  preserved  in  three  temples,  and,  in  frag- 
ments, oil  several  papyrus-rolls  which  can  be  made  to  com- 
plete each  other.  It  was  destined  to  become  the  national 
epic— the  Iliad— of  Egypt. 

It  became  Pentaur  s  dutv  to  constitute  the  new  votive 
temple,  which  was  called  the  House  of  Rameses,  on  the 
model  of  the  House  of  Seti,  for  the  Pharaoh  felt  that  it 
was  requisite  to  form  a  new  order  of  priests,  and  to  accus- 
tom the  ministers  of  the  gods  to  subordinate  their  own  de- 
signs to  the  laws  of  the  country,  and  to  the  decrees  of 

o 

*  This  .temple  is  frequently  mentioned, 
f  Known  as  the  Ramesseum. 


UAKDA. 


49S 


their  guardian  and  ruler  the  king.  Pentaur  was  made 
the  superior  of  the  new  college,  and  its  library,  which  was 
called  "  the  hospital  for  the  soul,"  was  without  an  equal ; 
in  this  academy,  which  was  the  prototype  of  the  later- 
formed  museum  and  library  of  Alexandria,  sages  and  poets 
grew  up  whose  works  endured  for  thousands  of  years— and 
fragments  of  their  writings  have  even  come  down  to  us. 
The  most  famous  are  the  hymns  of  Anana,  Pentaur  s 
favorite  disciple,  and  the  tale  of  the  "Two  Brothers/' 
composed  by  Gagabu,  the  grandson  of  the  old  prophet. 

Ameni  did  not  remain  in  Thebes.  Rameses  had  been 
informed  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  turned  the  death  of  the 
ram  to  account,  and  the  use  he  had  made  of  the  heart,  as 
he  had  supposed  it,  of  the  sacred  animal,  and  he  trans- 
lated him  without  depriving  him  of  his  dignity  or  revenues 
to  Mendes,  the  city  of  the  holy  rams  in  the  Delta,  where, 
as  he  observed,  not  without  satirical  meaning,  he  would  be 
particularly  intimate  with  these  sacred  beasts  ;  in  Mendes 
Ameni  exerted  great  influence,  and  in  spite  of  many  dif- 
ferences of  opinion  which  threatened  to  sever  them,  he 
and  Pentaur  remained  fast  friends  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

In  the  first  court  of  the  house  of  Rameses  there  stands — 
now  broken  across  the  middle — the  wonder  of  the  traveler, 
the  grandest  colossus  in  Egypt,  made  of  the  hardest 
granite,  and  exceeding  even  the  well-known  statue  of 
Memnon  in  the  extent  of  its  base.  It  represents  Rameses 
the  Great.  Little  Scherau,  whom  Pentaur  had  educated 
to  be  a  sculptor,  executed  it,  as  well  as  many  other  statues 
of  the  great  sovereign  of  Egypt. 

A  year  after  the  burning  of  the  pavilion  at  Pelusium 
Rameri  sailed  to  the  land  of  the  Danaids,  was  married  to 
Uarda,  and  then  remained  in  his  wife's  native  country, 
where,  after  the  death  of  her  grandfather,  he  ruled 
over  many  islands  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  became 
the  founder  of  a  great  and  famous  race.  Uarda's  name 
was  long  held  in  tender  remembrance  by  their  subjects, 
for  having  grown  up  in  misery  she  understood  the  secret 
of  alleviating  sorrow  and  relieving  want,  and  of  doing 
good  and  giving  happiness  without  humiliating  those  she 
benefited. 


THE  END. 


